Driving Miss Courtney
by willwrite4fics
Summary: BH/CG Driving cross-country in a cargo truck, bickering, chatting, action and a bit of fun. CoverGirl has a busted ankle the first day so she can't drive, but she's still able to drive a Ranger insane. I hope you will enjoy reading this! Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Setting:

Driving back from Fort Benning, BeachHead and CoverGirl share a deuce-and-a-half cargo truck. CoverGirl isn't very pleased to be on crutches after a nasty fall off a loading dock at Benning, thus she can't drive. They've delivered the important cargo and now they have miscellaneous odds and ends in the truck to take back to the Pit.

For information purposes, Fort Benning is in Georgia.. and I'm using a Arizona location for the Pit. So this is a 20-30 hour drive, and as such with only one driver to begin with, there will be a stop-over. The Army deuce trucks are big loud rumbley cargo things, with a frame back and a canvas covering over the frame, you've probably seen them on MASH and other Army-type movies. I want to own one so badly.. as soon as finances are available, I'm liable to buy myself one, just because I can't buy myself an actual tank.

I own no rights to the GI Joe franchise, nor do I make any funds from my writings.

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CoverGirl sighed... again. She was looking out of the passenger window on the cargo truck, chin propped in her hand, elbow propped on the edge of the window, and one really shapely leg with it's bandaged foot propped up on the beat up dashboard, despite BeachHead's repeated fussing about it.

BeachHead leaned back and tried to stretch his back a little, driving the deuce on an unending highway, he wasn't tired as much as stiff and bored. They had a long ways to go yet. It wouldn't be more than just a long boring drive to him, except he had the passenger sitting there sighing and doing her best to irk him at every opportunity. So far he'd turned down playing "I Spy" about fifty times, and declined to participate in the gossip she'd tried to chatter at him.

"I'm sorry I can't spell you, Beach. I'd drive.. you know I would.."

He looked over at her, his solemn brown eyes gazing at her placidly. "I know. It's fine. Not like ya meant to sprain yer ankle. Maybe it'll be better tomorrow mornin' and then ya can drive some." They'd already HAD this conversation eight times today. But considering some of the conversations they'd had, and ended with yelling, he'd rehash this one instead of cutting it off and letting her start up again about why he couldn't see spending time off-base singing in a bar full of drunks as 'fun'. Karaoke made NO sense to him. CoverGirl thought it was something he should do, seeing as she'd overheard him singing a Johnny Cash song to himself the day before.

"Well.. it's just not fair that you're doing all the driving."

"I know."

"I'm sorry!"

"I know."

"Okay. Are you hungry?" She turned a tentative smile on him and he immediately went on guard. That smile did NOT mean she was shyly thinking of something that she'd like but wasn't sure was allowable. THAT smile meant, 'I'm about to wrap you around my little finger and get you to do something terrible you will regret later on'. BeachHead had been the recipient of more than one of her ill-conceived schemes.

He looked at the highway stretching along in front of him. "Not really." He waited.. she would push whatever she'd thought up.

"I was just thinking.."

"Knew I smelled something burnin'..."

"Shut up. I was thinking that it's close to lunch.. and we're getting near the turn off if we wanted to head to Biloxi..." Her casual tone didn't fool him in the least.. she'd started twisting a bit of hair in her fingers.. and THAT was his 'tell' on her scheming. He'd NEVER let on that she had a few 'tells' that gave him the slightest bit of advantage in keeping up with her.

"No, we're not stopping in a casino."

"But.. they have cheap good buffet food.." She blinked outrageously beautiful eyes at him, luckily he was immune to that particular tactic. He'd fallen for that once too often a long time ago with someone else.. it had bitten him rather badly in the back too. Again, he wouldn't let on to her that he wouldn't ever fall for 'big eyes' treatments. Okay.. little June didn't count at all.. she was five years old and skewed the grade curve on manipulating adults. But he certainly wouldn't reveal CoverGirl's few 'tells' that let him know she was up to something. He needed every advantage he could keep.

"No. No casinos. No Biloxi. It's only ten in the mornin'."

"Beach.. didn't we cross a timezone? It's technically eleven in the morning.. and it's been FORever since breakfast. I'm starving." She put her foot down off the dashboard, sitting more upright and shifting herself around to face him better.

He tilted his head to check his side mirrors. There didn't seem to be any possible hostiles around, but he was always on alert that there could be. They didn't seem to have any tails, no suspicious vehicles. Not that they should.. the cargo wasn't exactly top-secret or super dangerous. Most of it was harmless ammo, parts and two cases of dive gear for the GI Joe SEALs. Torpedo had been fussing over replacement bits and things for his dive gear. BeachHead had made certain the cases were put on the truck this time, just to shut the SEAL up finally.

"BeachHead.. please? Let's stop and eat." Her voice wasn't whiny.. never whiny.. unless she was sick for real. Then she was unbearably whiny, as he had the misfortune to find out. She had gone to pleading though.. which told him that she really meant it.

"Are ya SERIOUSLY that hungry? We haven't crossed any timezones yet, and when we DO cross 'em, it works the other way.. it won't be later.. it'll be earlier. Come on.. it's only been a few hours." He gazed at her for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the road and the stupid SUV which kept inching over the white line into the edge of his lane. He eased the big truck over towards the edge of the road, just in case the smaller vehicle drifted too far. "How about.. we stop in an hour?"

CoverGirl thought that over. "Just an hour? Not an hour and a half because we just stopped for gas.. or two hours because we're really close to a better stop over..?"

He sighed, caught out in his plan. "One hour."

"Okay.. starting from right now?"

"Yeah yeah. Starting now." He agreed, fairly happy to have gotten an hour out of her.

They drove on in silence for exactly eight minutes. She turned to look at him while he drove. He kept his eyes forward. "So where are we going to stop for the night?"

"I dunno. A motel. Duke gave me a voucher.. or said he'd reimburse if they won't take the voucher." He shifted back in the seat. "Watch fer signs fer West twenty.."

She pursed her lips and got out the map and he clamped his mouth shut. She hummed softly and pointed at the map. "We should take.."

"We're takin' West Twenty." He glared at the SUV driver who suddenly decided to move ahead of him and get into the far lane. "Our itinerary is SET. No findin' some better route. I called it in, Duke signed off on it, and if we disappear, they know which roads to search on."

She sighed. "Why do you ALWAYS have to go by the book?"

"Because that's the regulations. Ya know.. yer IN the same Army I am." He shut up suddenly. She just wanted to argue with him because she was bored.

"I know I'm in the Army! Just because I'm 'just a corporal' doesn't mean I'm an idiot!" She sat back and crossed her arms, confirming that she was spoiling for a fight.

He sat there for a few seconds and then suddenly decided that if she wanted a fight, he was going to give it to her. "I didn't CALL ya an idiot! But if ya don't want folks thinking yer stupid, stop saying stupid stuff!" He saw her eyes flash darker and felt a slight bit of regret at falling for her needling.

"Stupid? Because I want to stop and eat a meal? Wait.. I know!! I KNOW!! We'll just dig out some MRE's and eat on the road without stopping!! We won't stop for gas either, when the truck runs out, I'll get out and PUSH it! That'd be great, wouldn't it? You'd love that.. no stopping at all!" She slung herself back in the seat and huffed angrily, staring out the window.

He waited for her breathing to slow. "Are ya done now?"

"Done!? Done with what?!"

"Done with pickin' fights with me fer a while. This's the second one this mornin' already. I'm tryin' ta get the timin' down so I know when one's comin' up." He very carefully kept his expression neutral. "I know yer bored.. I know yer mad cause ya hurt yer ankle and ya can't drive the truck. But I'd appreciate it if ya would stop takin' it all out on me. I don't wanna be a total prick the whole drive back.. but I will if'n I gotta."

She stared at him, knowing that he was getting perturbed because his accent was getting thicker with every word. She thumped her back against the seat twice. "Fine."

"Fine what?"

She glared at him. "Fine Sergeant Major BeachHead SIR!"

He glared back at her. "So.. no, yer gonna still pick a fight now?"

"Shut up."

"It's not tha' Ah mind tha' much. Yer awfully spunky lookin' when ya get all wound up." His casual tone made it sound like he was totally calm and cool. His accent dropping all the 't's and mangling the vowels told her he was losing it.

"Fine, Beach.. you win. No unplanned stopovers off the route." She looked at him. "Happy now?"

"Blissfully happy. Never been happier." He took a deeper breath.

"Can I pick where we eat?"

He thought that over a little bit. "As long as it's not a bar.. or looks like somewhere I'll get arrested.. yes. You can pick the lunch stop. Happy?"

She smirked at him. "Blissfully happy."

"Very funny."

"I thought so. There's a sign for Twenty.. was it west? Did it say west?" She looked behind them, then grabbed the map up to peer at it. "Yeah.. that HAD to say West. Five miles." Folding up the map she tucked it into the box in the foot of the truck and watched for more signs. "Why is there another lane suddenly? That should have been a exit lane.. now it's a lane-lane. You should be in the right hand lane.. you're going to miss the exit!"

He checked the mirrors again. "I can't get over until that car moves.." He tried to slow a bit. "It's in my blind spot.. is it still there?"

She grinned at him. "If I said no, and you ran it off the road.. who's fault would it be on the report?"

He frowned. "On the police report, my fault. On the report to Duke, your fault. On the report I'll kick into your behind fer lying to me.. your fault." He waited. "Is it still there? Lean back outa my view!" Instead she leaned further forward. "CoverGirl.. come on.. lean back."

She sat back finally. "It's clear." He looked anyway and flicked the turn signal on before he eased over into the lane carefully. "Beach.. you drive like a grandma."

"Who has over fifty tickets on their record? Would that be me.... or you?" She snorted. "I thought so.. shut up about mah drivin'. Wait.. did that sign just say East? Did you just put me into the East exit lane?" He growled under his breath. "Look!! That sign says East.. dang it Barbiedoll!! Can't you read a map?" He turned on the signal again to ease back into the middle lane. "Where's the West exit lane? Is it further on?"

"I don't know!! I never drove from Fort Benning! The sign before said West.. I know it said West. The exit is probably just another one up." She suddenly pointed. "See!! See!! It says West!" She suddenly shut up.

He growled. "It also says LEFT lane!" Leaving the signal on, he began to work his way over across two lanes of traffic. "Move move.. I gotta get over.." He leaned and watched the car sitting to his left and grumbled. "How far until the exit? Why won't this moron MOVE!?" He slowed down slightly but the car still was in his way. "MOVE!!! Stupid.. I hate civie drivers!" Beach stepped on the gas and pulled ahead slightly. "Awww come on!! COME ON!!! REALLY!?" The small car began to speed up and he growled.

CoverGirl spotted a sign. "Beach... two miles.. you better get over now.."

He snarled. "I'm tryin'! Get outa mah way, ya stupid pogue! Danged civie drivers don't know ta get outa the way.. MOVE!" He suddenly slammed the gas pedal and pulled ahead, the big deuce truck's engine roaring. Pulling over ahead of the annoying car, he moved into the exit lane just as the exit came up.

"Alright... finally. What a danged trial." He settled into the seat and puffed out a breath. CoverGirl heaved a sigh. "What? What now?"

"Nothing. I just sighed." She looked around and dug out a notepad. "Where's the pencil?" Beach reached up and pulled it off the visor. "Thank you Beach." She began to scribble on the notepad.

Several minutes later, BeachHead looked over but couldn't see the writing. She had her head bent over the pad, writing continuously. Since she was being quiet, he wanted to ignore her. He sniffed slightly and checked his mirrors again, looking at the cars within view and mentally comparing them to the ones that had been nearby before they had merged onto this interstate. Nothing triggered any alarms in his head and he settled back in the seat and began to ignore CoverGirl's writing again.

After half an hour, he let out an exasperated breath and gave in. "What are ya writin?"

"Nothing." Her pencil never stopped writing.

"That's a lotta scribbling fer nothin'." She smiled and he sucked back a sigh that would have told her he'd fallen for the bait. "Good ta know ya can pass time quietly."

"Uhhh hmmm.." The noncommittal noise made him crazy. She flipped another page and continued to write.

"Alright.. alright.. what are ya writin'?" He watched her smile. "I admit it.. I'm curious, it's drivin' me nuts.. so tell me."

"If you MUST know.. I'm writing a letter to a friend." She scribbled again, waiting as he relaxed back into driving, having lost interest. "I'm telling her all about the loud smelly Ranger that I have to ride back to base with." She enjoyed the stiffening in his neck.

"That's real nice, Cinderella. Real nice." He refused to say more, which did disappoint her a little. She went back to writing her letter. He went back to driving and brooding about the surrounding traffic.


	2. Chapter 2:Lunch

Chap 2

And so the trip continues.. yes, Beach and CoverGirl do indeed squabble a lot. They enjoy tormenting each other on occasion. CoverGirl was just writing to a friend, not Aunt Beth. She sprained the ankle on a loading dock, very boring. I won't write that up, and it'll be healed enough for her to use in a day. Very boring, just frustrating for her.

Same as always, I don't have any rights to GI Joe or it's amazing characters, nor do I make any funds from these stories. Please enjoy and thank you for reading. I'm always open to PMs or Reviews! Please remember, if you don't sign in to review, I cannot answer your questions, although I always value the review!!

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"You said I could pick." CoverGirl sounded like she was working up to righteous anger.

"I also said 'not a bar'." Beach tried to sound both reasonable and firm.

"Hooters isn't a bar."

"Hooters is a bar.. plus it also fails the second requirement of 'not getting me arrested'. And how do ya think I'll hand in a receipt fer Hooters to Flint or Duke?" He took a deep breath. "Pick somewhere else."

"Oh fine." She sat and watched the signs on the side of the interstate. "Tabitha's Tearoom." He gave her a look. "Didn't you say I got to pick?" He rolled his eyes. "Does it meet your two requirements?"

"Yer kiddin' me." He sighed and then shrugged, giving in because he was certain her choices would just get worse and worse. "Fine."

She looked astounded. "Really?" He nodded. "Wow. Uhh.. okay."

When they pulled into the place, BeachHead grinned at her as he gingerly inserted the giant deuce-and-a-half into the end of the parking lot of BMWs and Cadillacs. "We better hope they don't have a dress code."

CoverGirl looked indecisive now that they were there. "Maybe we shouldn't bother.. they probably won't let us in." BeachHead made sure the brakes were on and twisted to unlatch the half-jammed driver door and kick it until it opened. Jumping down, he slammed it back shut and came around as she opened the passenger door. "Beach.. they aren't gonna serve us.."

He reached up for her, lifting her down by her waist easily. "Won't know 'til we go in, now will we? Got yer crutches?" She got them tucked under her arms and began to hobble across the parking lot. "You doin' okay? Is it too far fer you to walk?" His concern made her smile.

Looking up at him, she shook her head. "No.. I'm fine. Thanks." He held the door open, waiting patiently for her to enter first. "Thanks.." Standing to one side, she nodded politely at a small group of little old ladies dressed in what to her seemed to be church dresses. Three of them wore little hats pinned to their coiffed hair even. She glanced down at her khaki pants and shirt, although they were clean and pressed and her boot was clean next to the bandaged foot. Even her bomber jacket was at least clean, but she felt grubby next to the other patrons.

Looking aside at BeachHead standing casually next to her, she hid a smile. Compared to the burly Sergeant major, she was wearing formal togs. The difference between them was that he was totally unembarrassed by his clothing. His camouflage fatigue pants tucked into tall combat boots, and he sported a worn olive drab sweater with a patch on the elbow and both shoulders. The ballistics vest was his light armor and he only carried his handgun instead of a rifle, so she supposed you could call it 'armor casual'. She leaned to whisper to him softly. "Take off the mask, Beach.. you're making the little old ladies nervous."

He startled and dragged it off, tucking it into a thigh pocket and running one hand through his hair in a futile attempt to neaten the unruly locks. "Sorry. Forgot myself, ladies."

Two of them tittered nervously at him, while the rest ranged from being horrified to loftily ignoring him. The small group were seated and the hostess came back to look the two of them over.

"May I help you? Is there some problem?" Her poise didn't falter in the least though she was confronted with a lame Army corporal and a scruffy combat soldier.

Before CoverGirl could stammer out an apology, BeachHead nodded. "Girl wants to have some lunch. You got a table fer two hungry soldiers?"

CoverGirl stared at him in horror. "Beach.."

The hostess smiled. "Of course we do. Always happy to see our men and women in uniform." She held out a hand. "Might I take your jacket, ma'am?" Trying to shrug out of it while staying on her crutches, CoverGirl let Beach help her. He handed it over and stood waiting while the hostess looked at him expectantly. "Your.. ahh.. "

CoverGirl tilted her head and looked at BeachHead. "I think she wants your vest."

He snorted softly. "Yeah.. no. Thanks. I ain't taking off mah armor to have tea. Might be a ninja lurkin' in the sannich tray."

CoverGirl couldn't help but giggle at the mental image and turned to the very nice polite correct hostess. "I'm very sorry, he's going to wear it to the table." She tried for an apologetic smile.

The hostess nodded and stepped aside to hang up the bomber jacket and came back to motion them to follow her. Beach let the mechanic on her crutches precede him, and made a visual check of the interior, motioning the hostess towards the side of the room that the truck was parked at. When she indicated a small table, complete with crocheted doily and delicate teacups on tiny saucers, he ducked his head to look out of the window to check he could see the deuce in the parking lot. "This'll do jus' fine." He pulled CoverGirl's chair out for her, seating her neatly to her surprise and settling into the opposite chair, hitching it to the side slightly. "What?"

She looked confused. "You just.. well.."

He gave a smug smile at her. "Ya don't think I got any manners? My momma raised me right."

"Of course.. sorry." She saw a young waitress dressed in a neat black knee-length dress with white frilly apron standing and talking with the hostess. "I think our waitress is scared of you." He leaned to look then shrugged. "I'll be right back.. gonna go powder my nose." He started to get up and she waved him to sit. "Don't.. really.. if you get too formal with your manners, I think I might implode. I'm fine." Getting her crutches, she moved off down the aisle, nodding apologetically when she got too close to the tables with their nattily dressed ladies and the rare older gentleman accompanying them.

Left behind at the table, BeachHead watched the young waitress approach hesitantly with a pair of menus held up like a shield.

"G-g-good morning s-s-s-sir.." She jumped when he frowned. "C-c-could I bring you s-s-something to drink?"

"Ahh.. I dunno. We start with some sort of tea, right?" She nodded, her eyes widening as she caught sight of his holstered sidearm strapped to his chest. "You gotta 'house blend' or something?" She nodded again. "How about we do that.. and when the gal gets back, she can decide the rest?"

"Yes s-sir." He frowned and she jumped again. "S-s-sorry... "

"It's alright." She scurried away, then rushed back to sit the two menus down on the table with a great air of daring, then scurried off again. He felt the corner of his mouth lift slightly in amusement. When CoverGirl returned, he stood and held her chair again, mainly to watch her get flustered over his actions. "I'm gonna go wash up.. I ordered us some tea. Keep an eye on the deuce." He turned to go, then stopped and looked down at her. "Are ya carrying?"

She shook her head. "No.. not everyone feels the need to be armed everywhere." He sighed at her and pulled the .45 out to set on the edge of the table. "Beach!" Her hissed whisper made him frown.

"Yer watchin' the deuce.. won't do much good to point yer finger at someone if there's an issue." He strode down the aisle, his erect stance and broad back advertising his self-confidence even in the face of his combat fatigues making him stand out like a shaggy wolf in a pack of poodles.

CoverGirl plucked up her napkin and shook it out over her leg genteelly, shifting her teacup closer and admiring the formal setting and porcelain ware. The young waitress came back with a small pot and the accompanying sugar, honey and milk. As she began to set the tray down, she spotted the rather large handgun and got flustered.

She waved her hand at it. "Ahh.. if you could j-just.. I mean.. " CoverGirl blinked at her. "Your.. umm.. " She pointed.

The tank jockey looked and suddenly smiled. "Oh.. sorry." She picked handgun up and set it aside on the far side of the table, ignoring the soft murmurs from the surrounding tables. "I don't suppose you have a pistol doily?" She gave a soft laugh and the girl tittered nervously. "Thank you. Do you have a recommendation for lunch?"

BeachHead loomed up behind the poor girl and she suddenly jumped and gave a little shriek. He blinked down at her. "Sorry.. didn't mean ta startle ya.. " He settled himself back in the chair and plucked up the handgun, dropping the magazine out to check it, racking the slide, releasing it again and reloading the magazine.. as casually as anyone else in the room would add sugar cubes to a cup of hot tea. He dropped it back into his chest holster. "Didja order us lunch?" He peered at CoverGirl who was trying extremely hard not to be embarrassed.

She gave a demure smile. "I was just asking our waitress here what she recommended." Beach turned a placid look on her and she squeaked and ran away down the aisle. "Oh.. now look what you did."

He shrugged. "What'd I do?" He spotted the hostess coming up. "Uh-oh. They called in the big kahoona now.. we're in for it."

CoverGirl tried to look innocent as the lady approached. "Is there some problem?"

She was treated to a calm collected smile from the matron. "Of course not. Missy is just a bit high strung. I thought I would give her a few minutes to collect herself and come take your order myself. Have you had a chance to look over the menu?"

BeachHead shrugged. "I'm not particular. Why don't you tell us what's good?"

"The watercress is quite good today." He gave her a blank look. "It's a light sandwich.. made from watercress.. like a green.."

He nodded. "Is it good?"

She looked him over. "Personally, I think you'd prefer a grilled chicken portabello sandwich.. " He nodded at that. "And for the lady?"

CoverGirl flipped the menu over. "I'll take the watercress and an assortment of scones to go with the tea, and once this pot is done, I'd like a pot of the blackberry tea please."

"Very good." The hostess left with as much poise as if she'd been serving the Queen and BeachHead turned to peer out the window before he looked at his teammate.

CoverGirl sighed. "Your giant gun scared that poor girl."

He couldn't help but grin at her. "I get that a lot. But I'm always real gentle..."

"Oh Beach! Really?? Did you have to go there? Can't you try not to be crass? Just for a few minutes?" She shook her head and tried to look disapproving. The snicker escaped and betrayed her. "Do you want some tea?"

He nodded. "I'm guessin' so. We're in a tearoom.. supposed ta drink tea." He watched her pour him a cup and hand it over on the little saucer. "Thank you." She smiled at him handling the delicate cup and saucer in hands more used to handling M-16s and grenades. "It alright if'n I put honey in it?" She handed it over and watched him expertly drip a bit of honey into the little cup and stir it. Trying not to snicker at him sipping it, she stirred sugar into her own cup, adding a touch of milk before she tried it. "It okay?"

She nodded. "Very nice."

"Tastes fruity," he said. She snickered at him and he frowned. "It does.. kind of like peaches."

She swallowed the giggle this time. "Sorry.. I thought.. uhh.. I thought you were calling it sissy-fruity. Not that it tasted like fruit." He rolled his eyes at her. "Thank you for coming here."

"It's okay. Got food. Scandalizin' the locals.. " He sipped again at the tea. "What ya starin' at me for?"

She smiled and reached to push his hair back for him. "I hardly ever get to see you without the mask.. I'm always surprised at how long your hair is."

He ducked his head away. "If I get it clipped off really short it's all prickly under the mask." He blushed and looked away. "And it's full of cowlicks.. hard ta get it ta lie flat anyway."

"I think it's nice hair." She sipped more of her tea and smiled at him.

He barely managed to not look too embarrassed. "Thanks. Suppose we'll get anything to eat sometime soon?"

"It's been five minutes. This isn't McDonald's." She poured him a second cup of tea. "Drink your tea and behave."

"Yes ma'am." He frowned slightly and lowered his head to peer out the window towards their vehicle again. "I'm picking tonight."

"Okay. Hey.. see? Here comes food." She smiled as the waitress showed up with a tray of scones. "Oh those look lovely."

Beach looked at them. "Hey.. biscuits!"

"Scones.." CoverGirl corrected him. "Plate." He held up his plate and she put a selection on it.

He tasted them, looking at each one carefully. "Tasty little biscuits."

"Scones. Not biscuits." She was still futilely attempting to explain the difference between scones and biscuits when the lunch sandwiches arrived. Their waitress was slightly less nervous and set Beach's plate down with hardly a quiver. "Mmm.. your sandwich looks good, Beach."

"Eat yer greens on bread there.. the chicken is mine." Despite his words, she still ended up eating a portion of his chicken sandwich, and convinced him to taste a bite of her watercress. He polished off the last of the scones, although he still argued that putting bits of fruit into a biscuit didn't make it something different.

By the time they were paying, he'd actually managed to charm the waitress into laughing at a fairly horrible joke. He left a generous tip and came around to assist CoverGirl to her feet. "Yeah, yeah.. don't go puttin' weight on that foot. I don't wanna do all the danged driving tomorrow too." At the entrance, she was given her coat back and slipped it on with his assistance. "Ya got it?" He gave the hostess a nod. "Thanks.. uhh.. good lunch. Really. And nice tea."

She nodded back at him. "Wonderful to have you here.. be careful on your drive. Take this please.. as a gesture.. a thank you for your service." She handed them small packages of tea, and BeachHead looked a bit embarrassed.

"Thanks.. uuhh.. thank you." He tucked the pack into a thigh pocket, while CoverGirl hobbled out the door he was holding open carefully.

The ex-model smiled back at the nice lady. "Thank you for lunch! It was grand!"

"Are you certain you don't require assistance into your truck? Your ankle.."

Beach cut her off with a dismissive wave. "I got her.. shoot.. she ain't as big as my left leg. I can pick her up and give her a toss into the cab, no problem."

CoverGirl rolled her eyes as she hobbled across the parking lot. "Beach! Thanks a lot.. you make me sound like a bookbag.. toss me into the cab? Really? Geez. You're so uncouth."

"Yeah? How come no one ever gets called 'couth'? If un-couth is bad.. isn't 'couth' good?" She sighed at him and he pulled the passenger door open. "What? It's a legit question." Reaching down, he held out a hand for her to put her knee into and lifted her up into place. "Ya in?" He slammed the door and moved around to the driver's door and climbed up to unlatch it. Putting one foot beside the door, he wrenched it open with a few curses and a lot of yanking. "Danged door.. I want ya to put this thing on the list to be fixed before it goes back out. Ridiculous not to be able to open the driver's door. What if we was in a hurry? Cobra could be shootin' at us or something."

"Yessss.... Beach.. just go."

"It's a legit concern.. I wouldn't be able to take off very danged fast if I gotta take ten minutes to get the door open."

"Yesss.. I know I know.. just go."

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End Chapter

Well, now they've had lunch. More to come soon. Right after I have myself a cuppa tea and a biscuit.


	3. Chapter 3: Settling Arguments

Chap 3

Another chapter in the ongoing drive. It's going to seem like the longest drive in the history of road trips to them, yet somehow I don't think either of them will be all that pleased when it's over either. And YES!!! They're arguing over the radio finally.

Thank you all for the awesome reviews!! They're grand and I do appreciate them! Now, on to the reading part!

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"I don't like this station.. let me switch it over.." CoverGirl reached for the radio knob and had her hands swatted lightly away.

"Leave it be.. it's a good station." BeachHead's no-nonsense tone didn't faze the tank jockey in the least. "I just found that station.. it's got good music."

Her eyebrows went up in disbelief. "Good music? Gimme a break.. it's all Johnny Cash and wailing country-western ballads.."

"I like Johnny Cash... and it ain't wailin', it's singin' words you can actually make out rather than that squallin' garbage you like so much." He pushed her hand aside again. "Look! I'm drivin' and that means I get to decide what station!"

"No way! The passenger gets to decide!" Evading his outstretched hand, she flipped the station over to rock. ACDC blasted out of the decrepit speakers. "Whoo!! Better!"

BeachHead took a few minutes to maneuver around a lumbering RV before he switched the radio off. He almost considered leaving it on for a while, since when she moved to the music, interesting things happened under her shirt. Why did he turn it off again? Oh yeah.. horrible music. He hated that loud stuff. "We ain't listening to that junk."

He was glared at. "Well, I don't want to listen to YOUR music!" CoverGirl huffed. "You have to be fair!! You can't just declare we're listening to your choice!" Suddenly she straightened up. "We'll do rock-paper-scissors to decide!"

"Yer kiddin' me.. I ain't listenin' to yer idea of music!" BeachHead shook his head. "No way... if I gotta listen to that squallin' I'd pull the danged radio out and pitch it into traffic."

"Well, I don't want to listen to your music either!" She shifted her weight and thought it over. "Okay.. rock-paper-scissors.. and we listen to the winner's choice.. for an hour. That's fair and then you only have to suffer listening to real music for a single hour."

"Half an hour." He'd be damned if he was going to subject his ears to an hour of her version of skull-pounding screeching if she won.

She stuck out a fist. "Okay.. done. It's a deal. Ready?"

He stuck his fist out towards hers while watching the road. "Alright... no changin' yer danged sign after I show mine though."

She scowled at him. "Are you calling me a cheater, Ranger man? Cause I'll kick your butt, Sergeant major or not."

He smirked at her. "Riiiiiight. I'll tie a hand behind my back and you still couldn't kick my butt. I'll take you any day of the week Kreiger."

Furious, she balled a fist up and flexed her arm. "Oh yeah? Pull it over, let's go! Big bad Ranger, I will pummel you so bad you won't be able to walk straight for a week!" Her fierce gaze took him slightly aback.

"Hey! Don't be kicking me in the nuts. That ain't fair." He forbid himself to clamp his thighs together. That instinctive reaction to protect his crotch in the face of a angry female was present in every male over the age of ten, but damned if he would show it.

She took her turn to give him a smirk. "Who always says 'there is no 'fair fights', there's just fights that you win'?"

He sputtered. "Well yeah.. but.. but I ain't talkin' 'bout no friendly contest fightin'.. that's just talkin' 'bout real fightin'!"

Looking entirely too pleased with herself, she looked out through the windshield casually. "Who says that 'practice fighting should be just like a real fight, otherwise we won't learn anything but how to hold back which will get us all killed in battle situations'?"

He glared and clamped his jaw shut for a moment. "Do ya just record every danged thing I ever say, just so ya can go draggin' it up later to use against me?"

She smiled in a pretty fashion. "Shouldn't you be glad that I'm paying attention to all the stuff you bark at us?"

"Do you seriously have an answer for every snarky thing you say?!" he snapped.

Her smile turned sardonic. "Would you prefer I was a dumb blond who giggled every time you looked at me?"

He rolled his eyes upward and then thumped his head onto the steering wheel once. "Okay.. I give up. Yer right, if we was to fight, yer allowed to kick me in the nuts.. if ya can manage it. But when ya go to kick me in the nuts, I'm gonna snatch a handful of yer danged hair and use it to throw ya across the room." He fixed a somber look at her. "Ya wanna fight dirty to hurt me, I'm gonna do it right back at ya."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine... deal. If I chose to cripple you, you can pull my hair. You already ride my ass enough."

He coughed and felt his eyebrows disappear into his hairline. "Ah really don't think that's an appropriate thing ta be sayin', CoverGirl."

"You started it!" She sounded positively gleeful at his discomfort.

"I did no such thing! When did I say anything about your... your.. rear end?" He swallowed and refused to turn red in embarrassment.

Lifting up one lean leg, she propped it up on the dashboard. "You started this by accusing me of wanting to cheat at rock-paper-scissors."

He blinked and thought it over. "I really don't see how me sayin' you can't cheat means you should go talking about me ridin' yer.. butt." He couldn't stop himself from glancing over and saw her triumphant look at his slight blushing. "Dang it. Fine. FINE! I'm sorry I said you would cheat."

She took a very deep breath and he refused to look at her inflating chest.. for more than a couple seconds.. he was driving after all. "I accept your apology, Beach. Now.. are you ready? Put out your fist."

He shook his head and stuck his hand out sideways towards the center of the seat and made a fist. "Yeah. Ready."

CoverGirl chanted. "Ro-cham-beau!" Her hand flattened out. She stared at him as he gave her a confused look. "You didn't do it! That means I win!"

"What? No you don't! You didn't count it off! What was that junk?" He glanced between her and the near empty road. "Ya didn't count it off!"

"Yes I did! I said 'Ro-cham-beau'.. and then I showed scissors. I win!" She beamed, obviously happy she won out.

He shook his head stubbornly. "Hold up! Ya count by sayin' 'one-two-three' not.. 'whoa-ham-boo'. Ya can't just shout random junk out, that don't count."

"I always say 'Ro-cham-beau'. You're just mad you lost."

"I ain't lost 'cause we ain't played the round yet. What's that stupid word supposed to mean? Ya gotta count! I knew you'd go and try to cheat!" He frowned and shoved his back against the seat annoyed at her scheming.

"It is NOT cheating! 'Rochambeau' is a Revolutionary War general. We all used that instead of numbers to count off rock-paper-scissors when I was growing up." Settling against the door, she glared. "I think you just want to back out now that you lost."

"I ain't lost! I ain't played yet! That don't make no sense.. to.. to just shout out some Frenchie general's name! Ya wouldn't have said 'wash, ing, ton' and figured it was the same as calling the count! That don't make no sense at all!" He sat back and his brows lowered stubbornly. "If'n ya don't count it off, no one knows when ta go showing their sign."

She gritted her teeth. "I DID count it off.. I said Ro-cham-beau. That's the same as one-two-three!"

"Really? I ain't never heard no one say 'oh, gimme cham eggs fer breakfast.' so it ain't the same as countin' off. Ain't no one goin' 'ro fer the road, please'. Cause it ain't COUNTIN'!!" The glitter of his darkened eyes made her shake her head.

"FINE!! Fine.. I'll count it off! Happy?!"

"Blissfully happy.." He held his fist out to the side again. "Alright.. ready."

Her lip curled into a sneer but she held up her fist, pumping it with each word. "One.. two... three!" Her fingers folded to show two and she crowed happily and slapped his hand sharply. "Scissors cut paper! I win! Unless you can think up some OTHER objection!!"

"Ow! Dang it." He fumed for a moment. "Two outa three."

"No way!" She bounced in the seat in a slightly distracting manner and he tore his eyes from her to stare at the road again. It was taking unfair advantage for her to jiggle in so many right ways. "I won, fair and square."

"Two outa three would be more fair.. come on.." Beach put his fist out again hopefully. He did hate to lose, even if it was a juvenile game that didn't really matter. It really really didn't matter that she bounced when she won... really didn't. He smiled to himself. "Two outa three.. "

"You're such a baby when you lose! Fine!" She held her own smaller fist next to his. "One.. two.. three!" She grinned at him. "Rock breaks scissors!" She smacked his wrist sharply again and he shook it a little.

"Ow.. dang it.. " He paused. "Three outa four."

"Give it up, Sneeden. You lost." She wriggled in the seat in a newly distracting manner.

"Fine.. I lost.. you win. Happy?" He slumped slightly in the driver's seat.

"Yeah! Blissfully happy!" She sat back for a moment. "Crap. What were we playing for?"

Beach thought for a moment, struggling to come up with the information. He never ever had these issues unless Kreiger was involved. "Uhh... dang.. I forgot..."

"Well.. that's just STUPID!"

* * * *

"Beach.. pull in the next rest stop, okay?" CoverGirl looked up at a passing boat on a trailer.

"What? Why? We just stopped no time ago." BeachHead pushed against the steering wheel stretching his back some. "No reason to go stopping every ten minutes."

Giving him a exasperated look she pointed at a upcoming sign. "It says 'next rest stop fifty-three miles' and I have to pee. Okay? So stop."

His eye twitched slightly. "You just went at the last stop. You can wait."

"Nooo, I can't wait. I had that whole soda. I gotta pee now." She watched the warning sign go by them at the carefully maintained speed of fifty-eight miles-an-hour. "Beach. Seriously.. pull in so I can take a bathroom break. I can't miss this one and wait ANOTHER fifty miles."

"Oh come on! Can't ya hold it fer a little while? I hate stoppin' every ten miles on this danged drive." He took a deeper breath and looked over at her. "Gimme a break here. Jus' cause yer a girl ain't no reason to have to go peepee every ten minutes."

"Did you just seriously use the word 'peepee'." She was trying not to smirk, mainly because she _really_ had to go pee and she didn't want to start laughing.

"Oh geez oh danged pete.. seriously? What do ya want from me? Ya call me crass then now I ain't crass enough? Make up yer danged mind. And jus' danged well hold it. I ain't stoppin'." He set his shoulders and glared out the windshield.

She protested. "But Beach!! I can't help it.. I keep thinking about waterfalls.. and rivers.. and how you fill up a big old-fashioned bathtub and the water sloshes around.. and walking in deep puddles when it rains really hard.. and I gotta pee and then it's all looking at my empty drink cup and thinking about how much soda I drank and..."

He shouted suddenly. "ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!! Dang it... I'll stop." He crossed two lanes of traffic to get into the exit lane just in time, making vehicles honk as he cut them off. Pulling into the truck parking area, he let the cargo truck grind to a stop finally and set the brakes. Kicking his door open, he walked around to help her down, taking the crutches in one hand and her arm in the other to take her weight carefully. She slid down against him and grabbed the crutches to begin swinging along quickly towards the restrooms.

"HURRY UP!! Don't go takin' all danged day!" He stood next to the truck and then walked around it to check it quickly. Back at the passenger door, he stood there, then shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Dang it.. now I gotta pee. Danged woman talkin' about drinkin' stuff... HURRY UP!!"

* * * *

"I get ta choose where to eat dinner.. this place is fine." Beach wasn't compromising any more.

"It's BARBEQUE!! Come on." CoverGirl reached to brace herself on BeachHead's broad shoulders as he lifted her down from the truck seat. "We could at least find a good restaurant."

"Yeah.. well. We've been passing fast food and greasy spoons. This is the closest thing to a restaurant we've seen fer an hour. Be happy with it. Besides, I like barbeque.. and don't think I ain't seen ya chowing down on Roadblock's barbeque chicken neither.. so just shut it and be happy I picked a clean place to stop." He waited patiently while she got her crutches. "Don't just carry those.. use them. I don't wanna end up carryin' ya around cause ya went and finished breaking that ankle."

"It's fine.. it barely hurts." Her protest wasn't very strong, although she really didn't want to admit that his concern for her well-being was making her feel rather like he was being a big protective guy. Very touching. In a creepy kind of strange way, since he'd be the first to state something twisted like he only cared because she couldn't cover his back if she had to carry crutches instead of a M16 rifle.

Unaware of her inner monologue, he simply nodded at her statement of mild pain. "Good.. then stop walking on it without the danged crutches and it'll be better tomorrow." She made a face at him but hobbled on the crutches obediently. Inside he nodded at the waiter that came up. "Table fer two.. along the front wall." The guy seemed a little put out but found them a booth to settle into.

Ordering from the extremely limited menu took only a few minutes and the waiter brought out plates nearly immediately. The food was passable enough that even CoverGirl had to admit it was a decent place to eat. After she drenched her house salad in ranch dressing, she stole BeachHead's fries, dipping them into the dressing to munch on them.

He got unreasonably irritated over her theft. "Stop stealin' mah fries. Ya got fries.. eat yer own!" He shifted his plate further away but she merely reached over to snag a few more. "Stop it!"

"Stolen french fries taste better." She licked the ranch dressing off her finger and reached over again.

"Yer mental. Hands off mah food!" He growled and swatted her wrist finally.

She finally left off grabbing at his food to irk him and applied herself to her own salad and barbecue pork sandwich. "When are we stopping for the night?"

"Nine." He was single-mindedly eating, probably hoping to get most of his meal down before she tried to steal any more of it.

"Why are we stopping at all? We didn't stop on the way to Benning." She poked at the last bite of salad and eyed his plate.

He slid his plate a bit closer to himself, glaring back at her. "We had two drivers on the way ta Benning. Now it's just me. Plus.. Duke don't want me back tomorrow too early."

"What? Why not?" She made a reach for the last of his fries and he tried to stab her hand with his fork. "OW! You bastard.. you almost drew blood!!"

"Leave.. mah food.. alone." He waited, fork poised. "Next time I'm pinning yer hand ta the danged table." She sulked but picked up her own sandwich and he relaxed slightly. "Remember that SEAL last year? Consultant fer the Navy mini-sub?" She nodded. "He's back. Duke seems ta think me not being there would cut down on the number of times the idiot's head hits the wall."

"Gee.. why would he think that? Oh yes.. the fact that you got into three fistfights with him last time. Silly Duke." She wiped sauce off her chin. The sandwich was juicy and the sweet barbeque sauce was just right. Not that she'd admit that Beach had made a good choice for a dinner stop.

Beach snorted slightly. "He's a jerk. The SEAL.. not Duke. Okay.. sometimes Duke.." He raised the fork again as her hand snuck towards the center of the table. "Try it Barbiedoll.. "

"Barbarian!! I ate all of my fries!" She puffed out a breath and gave up. "Where will we stop then? A motel? Are you going to get separate rooms?"

"No.. why the heck would you want separate rooms? We can share a room, they got two beds.. you afraid ta sleep in the same room as me?" He kept his gaze fixed on his plate, feeling grumpy over her question for some reason. "Uncle Sam ain't gonna go paying fer the Four Seasons neither."

She warmed at the implication she was spoiled. "Ha ha. Very funny. I'll share a room with you. As long as you shower." He twitched and she felt just a little bit bad. "Besides, I've slept within inches of you in the field, so why would sharing a room bother me?" He shrugged and wiped his plate with the piece of bread. "I wish I could spell you driving. I feel useless."

His tone was unconcerned as he answered her. "Next time don't fall off the loadin' ramp. Ya done?" She nodded. "Let's go." He paid while she got herself up and out to the truck. By the time he got out into the parking lot, she was standing with two young men. They were all smiles and strutting, and BeachHead felt his shoulders bunch up. He told himself they were civilians and probably harmless.. he growled as one reached to touch CoverGirl's sleeve slightly.

"Whut's goin' on here?" He thrust a shoulder between the tank jockey and young males, pushing her backwards as he turned to face them. "This truck is government property.. take yerselves someplace else." Although they muttered a bit, they did so from several feet away as they retreated from the bristling Ranger. He turned to pull the truck door open for CoverGirl, holding his hand out for her knee automatically.

She placed the knee into his hand and let him lift to boost her up into the seat easily. "Thanks Beach.. I think they were just flirting.. but who knows.. they could have been dangerous terrorists.. bent on flattering me to death." He rumbled under his breath and slammed her door. She smiled to herself as she watched him stomp his way around the entire truck, doing a visual check. He'd already tugged the balaclava on, but she could see his jaw working under the cloth as he muttered to himself the entire time. She reached to wipe his cup off with a napkin, then put the iced tea into the holder for him. Drippy cups bugged him a lot. The loud banging heralded his forcing the driver's door open.

"Danged stupid door." He slammed it shut and it bounced open. "DANG IT!" Another slam and another bounce. Before he could yank it off entirely, she put a hand on his forearm. "What?!?"

"You have to click the latch manually.. on the door.." She pointed to the door latching mechanism. "Just put your finger in there and push upwards.. until it clacks into place."

He fiddled with it and then pulled the door shut. It stayed shut this time and he grunted.

She sighed and sat back, getting comfortable. "You're welcome."

"Shut up."

* * * *

End chapter

Ahh... fun. Next chapter will be them stopping for the night. Any suggestions or comments are welcome. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4:Motel beds

Chap 4

Congrats to Karama9 who totally guessed the upcoming scenario. People really should stop spying on my brain.. it's a scary dark place in here.

I'm glad that you're enjoying!

* * * *

"It's after nine," CoverGirl said. She peered at the haggard face. "You said we were stopping for the night at nine."

Beach snorted at her. "What's wrong? Gonna miss yer beauty sleep, Princess? Trust me, you can stand ta miss some."

"I think you just complimented me... but no. You look tired. And you told Duke we'd be stopping at nine, so what if Cobra destroyed everything and Duke needs to find us and the ONLY way is to figure out where we would have stopped, HAD we stopped at nine like you REPORTED to him?" She looked at him somberly. "The continued existence of the universe could depend on you following what you reported to Duke.. you know that."

"Why ya gotta be such a smart mouth all the danged time?" Beach began to work his way across the lanes of traffic anyway, preparing to get into an exit lane when he saw the next motel sign.

"Because you scare everyone else into not mouthing off at you.. so I have to make up the difference, otherwise there'd be an imbalance in the Force." He sighed at her reasoning and she continued. "And I really don't want you to get any crankier as you stay up past your bedtime. Annnnnd.. I'm tired and my foot hurts."

He glanced at the bandaged foot. "Did I wrap it too tight?" She shook her head. "If it's too tight, jus' tell me, I'd have rewrapped it fer ya."

"You just want to handle my pretty foot again. I think you have a foot fetish." She wriggled in the seat as he scowled. Any time she could get a rise out of the normally stoic Ranger she felt pleased.

"It ain't the foot, it's the bruises. I like the color purple all over yer skin." His snarky rejoinder made her grin. "I'm kidding.. Hey.. there.. Motel 8. We'll stop there."

She waited in the truck as he went into the lobby and paid. Once he moved the truck down to the end, he had to park across the lot from the door. There just wasn't any way to put a deuce-and-a-half into a regular parking spot.. unless he wanted to crush the sedans to either side. Once he'd locked the doors up, he clambered up into the back to retrieve their small bags. When he hopped down to the pavement, she swung alongside of him on her crutches. "What do you pack in yer bag? I swear, every woman's bag weighs twice what a guy's bag does."

CoverGirl looked over her shoulder at him coyly. "Bricks. It's just to keep up appearances, plus we all love to see our menfolk carrying heavy things, using their big ole muscles. Makes us all hot and bothered." He rolled his eyes and she grinned. "Where's the key card?"

He nodded downward. "Thigh pocket.. right side." She tucked a hand into his front pocket and he sighed. "Yer other right Cinderella."

"Oh shut up." She sounded embarrassed. He wasn't certain but he thought she was blushing. "Got it.." After a few tries, the light finally blinked green and she pushed it open. "Oh... uh-oh."

He put his shoulder on the door to keep it open as he stepped in. "What? Oh.. grrrreat. I told him two beds." Dropping the bags on the king sized bed, he picked up the room phone to punch the operator button. "Yeah, ya just gave me a single bed room... I asked fer two beds." He listened and grumbled. "Alright.. where's the next motel? What? WHAT? Yer kiddin' me.. whatever."

Hanging up, he stared at the wall. "This is the only room.. fer about the next fifty miles."

She eyed the bed and then his heavily muscled back. "It's okay. The bed is plenty big enough."

"I ain't sharing a bed with you." That would be a total disaster.. he was certain of that. Him and the tank jockey in bed together.. she'd already been acting weird and heck, he'd been acting.. odd. It wasn't that he didn't have any self-discipline but.. great gawd almighty he was human after all. He twitched and suddenly shrugged. "I'll sleep on the danged floor. You take the bed." He dragged the headmask off and stuffed it into a pocket. He took a second to unfasten the clasps on the ballistics vest and peeled off the body armor.

Flopping onto the bed, she applauded lightly. "Ooooo.. Ranger strip show! My favorite!" CoverGirl propped her chin in one hand and smiled at his scowl. "Come on!! Take it all off!"

"Gawd.. yer just a pain in my rear.. why can't I ever get paired up with someone quiet and respectful?" Ignoring the catcalls, he pulled off his sweater and tossed it onto his bag. When CoverGirl wolf-whistled at him, he grinned and flexed his arms for her. "What? Ya want somma this?" His considerable set of muscles bunched up and he really wasn't posing at her, honestly. Just joking around.

She laughed at him. "You know, no one would believe you're so vain."

"Bah." He dropped to the floor in an easy movement and began his nightly push-ups. "I ain't vain. Yer the one keeps fussing over looking at me. I don't around showin' off ta everyone." As he passed the fifty mark, he felt the stiffness in his shoulders beginning to ease off. The long day of driving the old recalcitrant cargo truck had made him more sore than his typical day of running the PT courses repeatedly. When he flipped over onto his back to begin sit-ups, he found himself looking at CoverGirl who was laying across the bed watching him with frank appreciation. "Geez.. don't ya got something else ta do? I'm not yer personal cheesecake."

"Right now, you are." She smiled. "Does my watching you make you.. uncomfortable?" He grunted and she watched him finish the sit-ups. "Do you ever miss a day of working out?"

"Sure.. remember last time I got shot in the neck? I missed a few days then." Getting to his feet, he rolled his left shoulder a few times.

She snorted at him. "You missed a few days only because Doc put you in four point restraints and ignored your continuous screaming for him to let you up. How DO you yell for hours on end and never lose your voice?"

Beach stretched upwards and popped his shoulders and wrists. "I practice on the greenshirts constantly."

"You're just a freak." CoverGirl sighed lightly in regret as he stopped stretching and shook his arms out. She rarely ever got to oogle him shirtless.

His eyes slid over to look at her, catching her staring and giving her a smug look. "Ya want first shower?"

"Unless you want to share the shower in addition to the room...?" She was rewarded with a deep red blush. "Go ahead. If I go first, you'll pound on the door and rush me."

"Wouldn't have ta rush ya if ya didn't take a danged hour to wash yer hair." He plucked up his bag to yank it open. "Good thing I packed jammie pants." He dragged out a pair of pants and socks. She snatched the pants out of his hands. "Hey!"

"Ha! You have pj's with kitties on them!" She crowed as she held the flannel pants up. "That's soooo adorable."

"Oh please." He snatched them back. "They were a present a long time ago, and they're warm and comfortable."

"Who got you kitty cat jammies?" She began to unwrap her ankle examining the light bruising and poking at the swelling.

"No one. It was a long time ago, before you even joined the team." His evasiveness made her ears perk.

"Wait.. why won't you tell me?" She rolled onto her stomach on the bed and smiled at him. "Was it a GIIIIIIIRL?"

"Yeah it was." He paused and looked at the soft folds of cloth in his hands. "My sister got them. Happy? Anything else ya wanna pry about?" His eyes avoided her as he walked into the bathroom. The soft click of the door shutting sounded loud in the sudden silence.

She sighed and sat up, rummaging for her own clothing. He never talked about himself, and she'd only found out he had a sister from LadyJaye, who'd been the one to let her know the reason he never got letters at mail call was because his sister was deceased. Since she'd been about to make a snarky remark about it to him, she'd been grateful for once that LadyJaye had interrupted the squabble. She pulled out her shower bag and settled in the center of the bed to brush her hair while flipping through tv stations. Watching the Weather Channel for a few minutes, she heard the shower turn off and resisted the urge to go bug the Ranger just to get him wound up again. He came out scrubbed clean with wet hair in the ridiculous kitty pants.

He dried at his hair with a towel while she enjoyed the sight of the bare-chested man. Grumpy he might be, loud he always was.. but he was built like a brickhouse and she smiled as she looked over the slightly hairy torso with a great deal of appreciation.

"Hey Barbiedoll.. uhh.. can I ask a favor?" She narrowed her gaze, hoping he hadn't noticed her leering at him. "If ya don't wanna.. I understand.."

"I can't say yes until you tell me what you're asking, Beach." She watched him turn and tug the edge of the pants down just a couple inches on his side. "What the..? Beach.. you have stitches!"

"Yeah.. about that... I didn't get them out before we left fer Benning.. can you take 'em out? I wouldn't ask.. but they itch like the dickens.." She frowned at him and he rushed to explain. "Lifeline was gonna take 'em out.. so I ain't askin' them to come out early or nothin'.. they just itch. I can't reach or I'd get 'em myself."

She scooted along the bed to peer closer at them. "Well.. was Lifeline going to take them out.. or were you going to go tell him to take them out?"

"He said 'come back tomorrow morning and I'll pull those out'."

She looked at the hopeful expression. "Alright.. but if I get back to base and get into trouble for removing stitches.."

"Naw naw.. it'll be fine. Hang on.." After a moment, he pulled a sewing kit out of his bag and handed her the tiny scissors. She got tweezers out of her own bag. "Ya know how ta remove stitches?"

"Sure.. I did it once.. on the family dog.."

"Uhhh..."

"Don't be a baby.. lie down.. it'll be much easier than trying to grab them with you standing up.." She watched him hesitate but he stretched out on the bed, lying on his side so she could bend over him to grab the tiny sutures. Within a few minutes she had the row of stitches out. "There.. see? That wasn't bad."

He nodded and sat up, rubbing a hand over the scarring. "Thanks.. feels better already. I shoulda had the medics at Benning last night take 'em out.. but by the time I got done with all the danged paperwork they wanted, it was too late to bother."

"Anytime. Well.. anytime that Lifeline has already cleared them to come out but isn't available." He smiled at her qualification and she asked quickly. "You done in the bath?"

"Yep, all yours. This the Weather channel?" She nodded as she limped into the bath. He watched her go. "Be careful in the tub.. don't slip and fall.. ya ain't got but one good foot."

"Is that some sort of veiled offer to come hold me up in the shower?" She enjoyed the blush that spread across his face. "You're hysterical. I'll be careful.. and I won't even lock the door. So if I fall and crack my head open, you can come rescue me."

"Like that prissy door would stop me. The hinges are on the outside." He snorted at her foolishness.

Rolling her eyes, she closed the door. "Weirdo.."

* * * *

Beach stretched out on the bed propped up against the headboard, watching the weather for the area. He'd managed to turn his mind away from the mental images of CoverGirl showering. He wasn't much better than the grease monkeys in the motorpool if he was sitting out here thinking about her naked.. with water all over her.. and this wasn't helping. The water turned off in the bath and he tilted his head listening. There wasn't any yelping or thumping, so he turned his attention back to the tv, starting to feel sleepy.

"Beach!?" She yelled through the door.

He twisted himself upright. "Yeah?"

"You took the danged towels!" Her voice sounded extremely upset with him, way beyond just not having a towel, but then.. women were way more concerned with bathing details.

"Sorry.. hang on." Going to the vanity area, he plucked up the fresh towels and rapped the door with his knuckles. Just in case she decided to embarrass him AGAIN, he made sure he wasn't looking when she flipped the door open. She probably was behind the door, but he was unwilling to take the chance and just let her take the towels out of his hand and walked back to flop onto the bed again. From the grumbling in the bath, he'd judged correctly. The girl just downright TRIED to irk him and get him flustered.

Reaching down, he plucked up her boot that she hadn't been wearing. When she fell off the loading dock she'd scuffed the leather up rather badly. He'd already rubbed conditioner into it the night before, and now he could use a cloth to buff the scuff mark mostly away.

When the bathroom door opened up, he got to his feet quickly, going to offer his arm to help Courtney limp her way to the bed, ignoring the amount of skin she was showing in her loose shorts and tank top. "Ya alright? Did ya aggravate yer foot?"

She gave a sigh and pulled the towel loose from her head to begin vigorously drying her hair. "Not really.. it's just sore and standing in the shower made it more sore." She pointed across the room. "Would you hand me my bag? No.. the one over at the bathroom.." He fetched it for her, handing it over and then briefly considering where to settle. In an act of great daring for him, he decided the end of the bed was fine to sit on. She smiled at his back, amused by how twitchy he was over things. "I'm probably going to regret not bringing long pajama pants myself. These shorts are not nearly as warm." He turned his head to glance at her long legs folded up gracefully underneath her and then went back to watching the news and buffing the boot leather. "They never turn the heat up enough in these places."

He twisted again to look at her. "I can turn the heat up. Dunno how well it works.." She shrugged at him. "Don't matter much to me either way. I got thick skin, cold is fine."

She drew the brush through her damp hair a few times. "I'm sure I'll be fine. There's extra blankets." He nodded and it was quiet a few minutes as he finished with the boot and set it aside next to her other one. "Why don't you comb your hair out?"

"Why bother? It's just gonna be under the mask tomorrow anyway." One hand went up to rake the half curly locks back despite the casual dismissal.

She scooted forward and reached to fiddle with his hair. He shrugged her off. "Get off me."

"I'm just going to straighten it out.. sit still." Ignoring his ducking, she settled herself behind him and reached to mess with his damp hair again.

He sighed, sounding very put out that she was going to fuss over him. "It don't need straightening out.. it's fine." Although he twisted away once more, he gave in when she put a hand on his forehead to hold him still while she brushed through the tangles. "Ouch.. don't pull it."

"Well if you'd comb it, it wouldn't be tangled and I wouldn't have to pull it." She ran the brush through a few more times. "You have very soft hair.." His back twitched and she ran her fingers through it a few times, smiling as he tilted his head a little. "For someone who cares very little for it, you have nice hair. I wish mine was this soft and thick without all the fuss I have to do to it." He muttered something indistinct while leaning back a bit to encourage her. She obliged him, raking her nails over his scalp a few times and giving a soft laugh as he shivered. "If you didn't have all these cowlicks all over, it'd look great. With them.. it's just going in all directions."

"Yeah.. I know." He pulled away finally. "Barber always complains when I go get it cut. He keeps telling me I oughta just shave it short. But I hate that, still have the cowlicks.. and it gets all sticky under the mask." One long deep breath in and out and he turned to look at her. "Ready fer lights out? I'm tired.. wanna get some sleep sometime tonight."

"What? No movie?" She gave a fake pout at him and he rolled his eyes. "Yeah sure.." She scooted under the covers on the bed while he pulled one of the extra blankets loose and shook it out. "You're not really sleeping on the floor."

He settled the blanket in neat folds next to the bed and got one of his handguns out before double-checking the door locks and peering out the window at the secured truck across the small parking area. Flicking the lights off, he moved back to next to the bed. "I'll check the truck about two.. doubt anyone will mess with it, those crates are pretty secure." Settling onto the blanket on the floor he tucked the gun under the edge of the bed out of the way and stretched out a hand to her up on the bed. "Gimme a pillow."

"Wayne.. seriously." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at her using his given name and she felt her back stiffen up in response. "Sleep in the bed. I'm not going to bite you." He held out his hand patiently and she snatched up a pillow and threw it into his face. "Stubborn Ranger." Flopping over into the covers, she rolled over and got comfortable. "Night Beach."

Beachhead curled up in his blanket on the floor, tucking the pillow under his head. "Night Barbiedoll." He yawned and shifted around a little, already feeling the chill seeping up through the floor.

CoverGirl laid still for a few minutes then rolled over and poked her head over the edge of the bed to look down at him. "Aren't you uncomfortable?"

"Naw." His eyes stayed closed.

"You have to be cold down there." She watched him shift around under the edge of the blanket and felt guilty again. "I don't like you sleeping on the floor like a old dog or something." His breathing seemed to slow and deepen as he slipped into sleep. "Beach.. Beach.. Beach.."

"What?" His voice seemed sleepy and distant. "Go ta sleep.."

"I can't sleep.. you're laying on the cold floor." She scooted around and dragged her pillow over to prop her head on while she watched him. "It's bugging me.. I can't let you sleep on the floor."

"I've slept in worse places.. " He still sounded half-asleep and she reached down to poke him in his side. "Stoppit.." She poked again and he swatted in her general direction. "Stoppit.. go ta sleep.."

"Name one place worse than the dirty floor of a cheap motel that you've slept." She poked him again just to be sure he wasn't asleep.

He gave a yawn before he answered. "Beruit.. the rubble of a burnt out buildin' while the CO argued with some jackhead about whether we was allowed to camp out there. I slept on the broken concrete blocks piled up in the corner.. and there was snow not five feet away. AND I didn't have no pillow nor blanket.. but.. " He paused. "I also didn't have no annoyin' tank jockey jabbing me with her finger." He waited until she jabbed him for the remark. "I slept onna tree limb while feral pigs tried to get to me to eat me.. and I once slept in cold mud so deep I hadda wake up ever' five minutes so I wouldn't drown in it." He rolled just enough to peer at her in the dim light filtering in through the curtains from the parking lot security lights. "So shut up.. it's warm enough in here.. I gotta blanket an' a pillow.. go.. to.. sleep."

She huffed out a breath and rolled over, dragging her pillow with her to lie on the far side of the bed. Even so, she could clearly hear him as he shifted around on the floor again and then listened to his breathing become more shallow as he easily went to sleep. She rolled back over again to look at him, his body outlined under the blanket. The dim light was enough for her to see his rugged features softened as he relaxed into sleep.

After a few minutes he grunted softly. "Stop starin' at me.. it's creepy.."

She protested immediately, startled by how he knew she'd been looking at him. "I can't help it! I feel horrible, cause you're laying on the floor like a dog! I can't sleep."

"Try staying quiet fer five minutes.. " He took a slow breath, still relaxed and unperturbed by her fussing.

She reached to pluck at his blanket. "Beach.. I can't sleep with you lying on the floor. Sleep in the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

"Don't be ridiculous." At least he sounded slightly more awake.

"I mean it.. I can't sleep up here.." She grabbed a blanket and got out of the bed, arranging herself on the floor next to him. "I'm sleeping on the floor too. Happy? Huh? Now I'm on the floor too."

He looked at her from his spot a foot away as she laid herself down on the carpet. "Yer nuts.. get back into bed."

"No! Not unless you sleep in the bed too. It's not fair for you to sleep on the floor." She set her jaw and tried to find a comfortable spot to lie on.

"Suit yerself. Ain't no never mind ta me.. sleep on the danged floor." He closed his eyes and she cursed under her breath before settling in to rest.

Five minutes later she rolled over again. "It's cold down here!" He grunted softly. "Beach.. Beach!" She reached to poke him in the forehead, making him jerk away and snort. "It's cold on the floor."

"So.. get back inna bed.." His eyes shut again.

"Beach.. the floor is all hard." He ignored her. "How can you sleep on the floor? It's cold and hard and uncomfortable and it smells bad. Hey.." She reached to poke his arm. "Hey.. how can you sleep down here on the floor?"

"I could sleep jus' fine if you'd shut up." He'd finally begun to sound irritated.

"But I'm cold and the floor's all hard." She shifted around and got a fold of blanket under her hip and had to roll onto her back to straighten it.

"Get back inna bed if'n yer not comfy." He sounded tired and she huffed at him. "Sleep in the bed."

"Are you going to get into the bed too?" She sounded hopeful.

"No." His short reply made it clear he was uninterested in discussing it.

Setting her jaw, she replied determinedly. "Then I'm sleeping on the floor too."

"Fine."

"Fine... be that way.. I'm gonna be miserable and cold all night." She shifted around and then peered under the bed itself. "What's that under the bed?"

He grunted. "My gun." Beach was trying to get to sleep in between her pestering him. He was failing miserably, although the cold coming up through the floor definitely put a welcome damper on any unwanted reactions. She was awfully bare.. and.. and he needed to think about the cold floor. Very cold floor.

She pursed her lips. "Not your gun, I know what your gun looks like.. there's something way underneath.." She clambered halfway on top of him to poke her head under the bed. "It's like a crumpled bit of.. OH GOD!!" Yanking out, she banged her head on the bedframe and kneed Beach in his ribs.

"Ow!! Dang it!! What's gotten into you! Crazy danged woman!" Beach pushed her further from him with one foot. "Get offa me!"

"Beach!" She sounded outraged. "It's a rubber!! There's a RUBBER under the bed!!"

He frowned and shifted himself around to lie back down and close his eyes. "Well.. so what? It's not hurting you."

"Oh come on!! It's a CONDOM!! Beach!!" She reached out and shook him. "It's gross!"

He groaned at her. "Stop. I know what a rubber is.. and it certainly ain't my rubber so it ain't my problem." Pushing her hand off of his shoulder, he tried to ignore her.

"You can't just leave it there! It's disgusting!" She insisted on shaking him again, just so he would understand she was upset over it. "Beach!"

"Oh good GAWD, Cinderella!!" He rolled over and stuck a arm under the bed to snatch up the offending bit of garbage, got up and took it to chuck into the garbage can. "There! Happy now? Should I go shampoo the danged carpets for your Highness also?" He started to settle back onto his blanket and she pointed at the bathroom. "What? What now?"

"GO wash your hands! I can't believe you touched it! That's disgusting!!" She shook her hands and was a bit disgusted with her own reactions. Somehow she wasn't bothered by blood and viscera.. but a used condom was just the limit. "Eww!"

Returning again, Beach dropped back onto the floor with a thump and rolled up in his blanket to sigh. "There.. the nasty bit of trash is gone and I washed my hands.. now get back into the bed and go to sleep and shut up."

She glared at him and arranged her blankets again. "I'm not sleeping in the bed unless you're sleeping in the bed."

"I'm fine on the floor."

"I can't believe you're being so stubborn!! Don't you CARE that I'm laying on a dirty carpet being cold?" She laid her head onto her pillow and gazed at the unperturbed Ranger.

"I ain't makin' ya sleep onna floor.. " He finally opened his eyes briefly. "Yer jus' bein' a pain fer no reason."

"I'm sleeping on the floor because YOU'RE sleeping on the floor." She tried to roll around and find a softer section of carpet futilely. "If it was SnakeEyes instead of me in here.. would you be sleeping on the floor then?"

He gave a short mirthless laugh. "Naw.. I'd be sleepin' in the danged truck.."

She grinned even though she was irritated with him. "What about if it was.. Scarlett?"

"I'd sleep in the truck.. parked in the next county... Snakes can be real jealous-like when he's in a poor mood." He closed his eyes but she could see his smile.

"You're a big jerk. Get in the bed."

"No! How many times I gotta tell ya 'no'?""

"BeachHead! If you don't get in the bed.."

"You'll what? You can't even lift me into the bed if I didn't fight back.. so shut up and sleep in the danged bed and.. and... shut up." He rolled over and put his back to her.

She narrowed her eyes at the back of his head. "BeachHead.. you can either sleep in the bed.. or I'm going to tell everyone in the Pit that you suck your thumb when you sleep."

"No one is gonna believe that." He didn't quite sound certain of it.

"Really? Then you won't care that I tell everyone. Oh I know, you'll deny it.. but then if you really did suck your thumb, you'd deny it, wouldn't you?" She smirked when he rolled over to glare at her.

"That's a bold faced lie. You ain't gonna do it."

She smiled sweetly. "Not only will I tell them.. I'll tell them I got a picture of it, but you found out and destroyed it before I could make copies."

"You.. I oughta.. dammit girl! I swear.. fine." He got up and tossed the pillow onto the head of the bed. "Blackmailin' me jus' to get me in a bed with ya.. " He threw the blankets to her side and sat down to shake his out over himself, flopping over and rolling onto his side to get comfortable. She got up on the bed and crawled under her blankets, smiling at the broad back as he snorted and mumbled to himself. "Ya got issues, girl.. issues.. I tell ya.."

"Good night Beach."

"Whatever." His grumpy voice continued to mutter for a few minutes before it trailed off. The angry breathing began to slow and deepen as he fell asleep.

"Good night Wayne." She spoke very softly to not wake him back up.

His voice was soft as he sighed in his sleep. "Night Courtney.."

* * * *

End Chapter

Annnd... so it goes.. one day they'll figure it out.. until then, they'll just be entertaining to the rest of us.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to review or message.


	5. Chapter 5:Mornings

Chap 5

Nope, no 'action' happening yet. Sorry guys. Both the Ranger and the tank jockey have to stay frustrated a while longer. I'm so glad people are enjoying this fic, and thank you guys for reading. Especially thank you to my reviewers and those that have discussed the fic details ad nauseum with me.

Sleeping in a motel bed.. and it's time to go check the truck of course.

* * * *

Two a.m. and his eyes flicked open. Blinking for a few seconds, he inhaled slowly and oriented himself in the darkened room. A warm body shifted next to him and he looked down at the mass of blond hair on his shoulder. She sighed and snuggled into his side and he honestly couldn't say he minded. It was a completely foreign sensation for him to have a warm body snugged up to his. Shifting his face over a little, the scent of her hair made him sigh, resisting the urge he felt to curl his arm around and stroke the sleeping woman. It was a stupid inappropriate urge... and probably highly unwelcome and thus liable to get him kneed in the groin when she woke up and realized what he was doing. He kept his voice soft as he eased away from her. "Courtney.. move over.. come on.." She mumbled loudly in her sleep and snagged the pillow instead to cuddle under the blankets as he slipped out of the bed.

Reaching to the nightstand, he grabbed his .45 and the room key card. The dark parking lot seemed empty through the window as he edged the heavy curtain aside. Stepping outside in socks and flannel pants, he let the door close quietly behind him and padded down the walkway, doing a visual check along the length of the motel rooms. Breaking into a trot, he crossed the parking lot at the end and moved along the far edge silently until he came up to the heavy old cargo truck. Five minutes of circling it and checking the cargo itself and finally the cab, he moved down to the far end of the parking lot and crossed to the walkway again at a trot.

Back at the room, he slipped the card through the lock four times before he got a green light to open the door up. Stepping inside, he closed it again quietly, flipping the manual locks and turning to peer down the barrel of a rather large threatening handgun.

"Whoa... it's BeachHead.. stand down.." He held up both hands, albeit one holding a large gun also. "Good girl.. but don't shoot me."

CoverGirl blinked at him blearily. "You stupid Ranger.. I should shoot you in the foot or something for being dumb. What are you doing?"

"Checkin' the truck..I told ya I would be checkin' on the truck at two.. ya wanna put that gun away now?" He raised his eyebrows and nodded towards the barrel still pointed unerringly at his head.

"I'm thinking about it." She watched him roll his eyes and duck under the gun to walk to put his own sidearm on the nightstand and falling back into the bed to roll into place and sigh heavily. "Beach.. you should have announced yourself, I could've shot you." She secured her weapon and put it away.

"Yeah.. ya could've. Sorry, didn't think I would wake ya. Go to sleep." He tugged his blanket up over his chest and shifted onto his back to sigh heavily.

CoverGirl flipped her blankets up and climbed into the bed, then scooted over to put her head on his shoulder again. He lifted his head to look at her and she gazed up at him and sighed. "What? Are you going to put up a fight and squabble and yell and fuss, threaten to sleep in the tub, and then finally give in when I won't stop busting your nuts over it, and let me use you as a pillow anyway?"

He thought it over, struggling to remain professional and objective in the face of the possibility of having her warm body snuggled up to him again. "Be more efficient to jus' give in to start with.. when ya put it like that." She nodded and snuggled into the hollow of his shoulder more firmly. He shifted a bit and let his arm rest on her side. "Ya know.. I can claim I done slept with ya now."

"Go ahead.. " He blinked at that and she continued softly. "I'll tell them you cried afterwards."

"Yer a real harpy."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

* * * *

Morning finally came and CoverGirl woke up and stretched, poking her head out from under the covers to peer as BeachHead leaned into view. "Wakey wakey.."

"Unngh.. what time is it?" She concentrated on blinking and considered tucking herself back under the blankets. Figured that the oblivious Ranger would already be out of bed when she woke up.

"Five-thirty. I let ya sleep in fer a whole half hour." He grinned at her moan, obviously enjoying getting to wake her up in person. "I'm gonna shave.. get up and dressed." He moved to the sink and she watched his bare back, able to admire the heavy defined muscles, even as she considered how much damage her combat knife might do if she threw it at him right now. She sighed to herself and fumbled around for some clothing. He was already dressed in fatigue pants, his sweater and tactical vest laid over the chair.

Clothing unlocated, she grumbled and stood up and blinked hazily. "We got anything to drink in here? I need some caffeine." If she didn't get any, she wasn't going to be able to function, much less get dressed and coherent. Already grumpy, she tugged her shorts around slightly and hoped there was a magic coffee machine hidden in the dresser somehow.

He hummed to himself, lathering his jaw up while he considered. "Coffee machine at the end of the building. The kind that makes the little cup with lousy coffee-colored water?" He grinned in the mirror at her sour expression. "Ya need some quarters, Princess?"

"Shut it, Ranger boy." She rummaged through all of her jacket pockets then sighed, rubbing her head. "Yes.. I need some quarters."

"Heh. Third ammo pouch on my belt.. it's hanging on the back of the chair." His amusement irked her this early, although the happy thought occurred to her that she wouldn't have any PT this morning. "How's the foot, Barbie?"

"Want me to kick you with it to show you how it is?" His short laugh at her made her scowl deeply. There was no reason for anyone to be so awake and perky at this hour. Why was he only cheerful this early in the morning? She found the correct pouch after a few tries and picked out some coins. "You want one too?"

"Naw.. I'll wait fer real coffee with breakfast." He took a long swipe with the razor. "You only got about twenty-five minutes to be in that truck ready to roll out.. better hurry."

"Whatever.." She stumbled over one of his combat boots on the floor on her way out and kicked it aside grumpily. As she staggered down the walkway to find the coffee machine, BeachHead sat aside his razor long enough to go reopen the door and leave it cracked so she wouldn't be locked out.

He returned to the mirror to finish shaving, shaking his head. The only thing that made his mornings better was having other people available to torment. That it was the tank jockey who'd been driving him nuts for two days was just icing on the proverbial cake.

* * * *

CoverGirl rubbed her arms and watched the paper cup fill up with a liquid that vaguely smelled like it might have passed by a coffee bean at some point. She'd take what she could get right now. If she had to deal with Mr. Perky I-run-ten-miles-before-breakfast Ranger without a cup of coffee, she'd be certain to end up shooting him in the head with something of sufficient caliber to cause Hawk to be irked with her.

She frowned to herself thinking about the night's activities. Or rather.. the lack of activity. she was pretty cranky this morning after spending a entire night in bed finally with the guy she'd been attracted to for forever.. only for him to not make a single move on her. At least once he'd gone to sleep, he had curled up with her in a quite satisfying manner. Indulging in petting her Ranger in his sleep, she imagined how nice it would be to wake up in the mornings in his warm arms. Of course.. when she'd actually woken up, he'd already been out of bed. Awake and perky and happy to be waking her up personally at an ungodly hour of the morning.

"Aaahhhhhh... commmme on java." The machine coughed and burped and finally finished giving up the coffee. Removing the cup, she sipped at it lightly, burning her lip and her taste buds out in one fell swoop. "Ugh.. tastes like Shipwreck made it..." This whole trip wasn't going at all like she expected it to. She'd imagined she would have time to really talk to the Ranger.. find out where his head was. Instead she was getting more frustrated, while she could tell BeachHead was getting irritated with her. She didn't see why after the success of their 'dates' at the Pit, that he had pulled back from her so thoroughly while on the road. She'd probably have gotten more affection out of LowLight than she'd seen out of her supposed boyfriend.

Limping slightly as she made her way down the walkway back to the room, she failed to notice the shadow that detached from an alcove to drift along well behind her.

She pushed through the door, regretting not getting dressed before walking outside in the early morning chill. Her little shorts were fine under plenty of covers, but not out in the breezy morning air. Letting the door shut behind her, she grunted at BeachHead who was checking the Weather Channel again. She wondered briefly what the addictive attraction was to that channel for everyone who ended up in a motel room. But then she was absorbed in the graphics showing the currant temps for the local area, along with something about the cabbage crops..

* * * *

Benny watched the door that the shapely blond disappeared into. Half-asleep, slender, obviously the perfect mark, and it was early enough that no one was awake to interfere in Benny going and making free with woman and possessions. He'd bet she hadn't even bothered with the manual locks on the door.

He moved down to the door, grinning as he flicked out the butterfly knife. One glance at him and the shiny six inch blade in his hand and he'd have one terrified lady certain to do whatever he demanded in return for her life.

The thug made one quick check up and down that there were no possible witnesses before he stepped up to the door. Lifting a foot, he kicked it in and rushed through as it was flung open, his surmise about the manual locks proving true.

Benny stopped three long steps inside the door.. confronted with a heavily muscled, dangerously annoyed-looking man wearing some sort of ski mask, a bulletproof vest and a irritated expression in his eyes. Standing with his arms crossed, he glared down at Benny's sliver of a weapon and raised one eyebrow.

"Really?? Seriously??" The face tilted slightly. "And here Ah thought mah mornin' couldn't get any better..."

Benny suddenly remembered to breathe. "Oh.. oh.. oh.. well.. " He stepped backwards slightly, hoping that movement wouldn't set off this homicidal maniac. "Oh.. my bad.. I'll just.. you know.. leave.. let me shut this this door as I leave.. sorry.. heh.."

He turned to run, hoping the guy wasn't as fast as he was murderous... and stared down the extremely large barrel of one horribly deadly looking handgun.. wielded by that same blond victim he'd followed down to the room in the first place.

She smiled an evil mirthless smirk at him and he suddenly had the thought that perhaps letting the guy in the ski mask kill him would result in less pain and urination on himself after all.

Her voice was as light and unconcerned as the man's. "Oh no.. you're not going ANYwhere.."

"Oh god.. please kill me quickly.. "

* * * *

End Chapter

Well.. it's a bad day to be a mugger. I won't detail exactly what happens next.. sorry. LOL. It'll pick up with them getting back onto the road.

Thank you for reading and feel free to review or message me with comments or suggestions! I don't promise to agree your idea is a good one, but you never know when you might trigger a plot bunny!


	6. Chapter 6:Squabbles

Chap 6

Here is a long long chapter, I apologize for how long it is, but there was no way for me to break at any point easily. I hope you enjoy! There'll be a lot going on in this chapter, so watch for the details.

* * * *

BeachHead cranked the truck up. "Yes, I already said we'd stop at the first place we see fer breakfast. I'm hungry too. Shut up about it already."

CoverGirl admired her right boot again. "Okay.. as long as it's not too long. I'm starved. I can't believe you got the scuff fixed. It looks great." She put one booted foot up onto the dash, ignoring the glare from the Ranger. "What did you tell the desk clerk?"

Beach pulled onto the road slowly, headed up to the on-ramp while shifting from gear to gear with an effort. "I told him that it'd be a good idea to do something about security fer the rooms.. and to expect a cop within the next twenty minutes to collect a package from our room. I expect that when they find that moron hogtied with our note duct taped to his head, they'll figure out something to do with him."

She grinned happily. "Yeah.. 'I'm a mugger, please arrest me before I hurt myself' is pretty clear. If he has a brain in his head, he'll be begging to confess anything he's ever done wrong in his life, just to get put in jail and be safe from the possibility of ever running into you again."

He gave a happy chortle. "The look on his face when he came in that door and spotted me was pretty priceless. I'd pay good money fer a picture of that." He glanced over and merged onto the interstate. "Not a bad start to the mornin' in my opinion."

The ex-model yawned and slouched in the seat to get herself propped against the door. "Yeah.. wake me up when we stop for food."

He frowned at her as she closed her eyes and dozed off. "Great.. so much fer waking up." Within a few minutes she seemed asleep and he looked her over with appreciation. She had that strange boneless grace that let cats and women sprawl into awkward positions and look sleek and elegant.

He sighed and tried to stop watching her. It'd been bad enough that he'd woken up with her snuggled into the curve of his body like she was meant to be there. A flash of guilt ran through him as he remembered how he'd indulged himself in simply lying there inhaling the sweet scent from her hair, enjoyed the warmth under the covers and.. just for a brief few seconds.. allowed himself to imagine that he'd ever have a chance to have that sort of relationship with Courtney, to think he'd be able to wake up with that relaxed easy feeling.

Instead he straightened his back, watching traffic with a practiced eye for anything out of place, looking out for vehicles that might have been tagging along the day before. He got so absorbed in looking at the surrounding cars that he missed the exit that came up advertising several food options. Of course.. CoverGirl woke up just as he realized the exit was passing by.

"Whuu? Beach! Beach you said we would stop!" She came awake awfully fast for someone who'd been soundly asleep only a few seconds before. Of course, now she was angry.

"Sorry.. I wasn't payin' enough attention. We'll catch the next one." He tried to keep his tone casual.

She wasn't having any of that however. "The next one? I'm starved! You said, 'the first place' and then you just drove right past it. You're such a prick!"

"I said I was sorry! I'm hungry too. Besides.. if you'd stay awake to help me out, maybe you could have pointed out that the danged exit was coming up!" He tried to take a deep breath and calm down before she had him too worked up to think straight.

"Oh so now your total inability to see a stupid road sign is MY fault? I know you're a semi-literate knuckle-dragger.. but I'd think you could at least be a competent DRIVER!" She punched the side of the door and then pointed at the upcoming exit sign. "Do you see THIS exit sign? Because god forbid I not be awake to point out the ten foot long sign saying EXIT!!"

Instead of replying, he clenched his jaw and checked carefully for traffic before he pulled into the exit lane. As he negotiated through the sparse traffic to the local greasy spoon, he looked only at the traffic and not at the loud passenger.

"There.. finally. Maybe we can get some danged breakfast.. unless we're only stopping to get MREs out of the back, so that you can make the trip twenty minutes faster." He pulled into the nearly empty parking lot and stopped in the side lot where there was plenty of room and no other cars. Once parked, he twisted to kick the driver's door open and got out, walking around to CoverGirl's side and holding up one hand for her to use to get down onto her bad leg gingerly.

"I'm surprised you don't just let me fall out on my head! Helping me down has to add a whole thirty seconds to the trip time! Not very efficient Ranger man! Do I get time to chew my food or should I just ask them to put it in a blender so I can drink it down instead?" Her venomous tone went unremarked on as he strode across the parking lot into the diner, pulling off his facemask as he entered. She followed him in a minute later, having taken more time walking due to her slight limp.

He walked down to a booth at the end and waited for her to seat herself. Then he went up to the counter and waited patiently for the waitress to come over. "Could I get a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich to go? Large coffee, sugar, no cream?"

The skinny woman scribbled on her notepad and then pointed at the corporal seated in the booth still muttering to herself. "You want me to get her order to go too?"

He didn't look around. "Separate checks, she's eating in here." A vague nod and she went to take the other order. Within a few minutes the short order cook tossed a wrapped sandwich up onto the counter and he paid for it. As he headed for the door, CoverGirl finally realized he wasn't coming to sit down.

"BeachHead!! Where are you going?!" He ignored the shouts and exited with his sandwich and coffee. "Oh OH!!! THAT'S MATURE!!" Her shouts went unnoticed. "Stupid Ranger." Her breakfast arrived and she took her time eating it, trying to force him to come inside to rush her along. She could see him sitting in the cab of the truck, apparently unconcerned with the delay as he fussed about with their map.

Finally she tossed her fork down on the table and got up. Walking up to the counter, she asked for her check. "And.. can I get two large coffees to go? One with sugar and double cream.. one with just sugar." Handed the two styrofoam cups, she walked out, backing through the door and stalking across to the driver's side of the truck.

"Nice.. real nice. Leave me sitting in the diner like an idiot." He ignored that and started folding up the map to set it into the box on the floor. She looked up at him, frowning severely as he sat resting his forearms on the steering wheel staring through the windshield. "Are you going to help me into the truck?"

Finally she got a reaction as he got out and walked around to the passenger side. Wrenching open the door with a yank, he turned and held out one hand, all without once even glancing at her. She stood there, waiting for him to look at her. When he stared straight ahead instead, she finally gave up and placed the coffees into the cab and put her knee into his hand for the boost up. Her ankle was a lot better, and she thought she could drive with it, but climbing up into the truck cab was a lot more certain to re-injure it. Otherwise she wouldn't have wanted him anywhere near her. She told herself that twice, just to be certain.

"Thank y..." The door slammed on her words and she gritted her teeth in anger again. He climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door. When it bounced back open, he reached for it, manually clicked the latch and then closed it hard again. Cranking up, he pulled out of the parking lot, all without a word.

"I got you another coffee." She put it into the holder on the floor where he ignored it as well as he was ignoring her. "Fine.. be that way. You want to act like an idiot, you go right ahead and act as idiotic as you want to. Nothing new to me for you to be a gigantic jerk to me."

She felt her temper beginning to fray as the man continued to ignore her. They got back onto the interstate and BeachHead settled into the slow lane, the heavy truck rumbling discontentedly as he pushed it up to a blazing sixty miles per hour. "It's not my fault that you can't see a road sign. Maybe it's that you just can't read the road signs.. most redneck hicks can't read past 'Dick and Jane', so perhaps I should have stayed awake to read the signs for you."

Watching out of the corner of one eye, she noted his eyes narrowing slightly. He'd replaced his facemask, but she had a lot of experience reading his expressions with only his eyes showing. "I don't know what Hawk was thinking.. sending me out on a trip with a banjo-plucking lowbrow yard dog like you. I'm probably lucky you haven't tried to count the exit numbers up, you'd crash the truck taking off your shoes to get higher than the number ten."

He suddenly pulled into the emergency lane and stopped. She looked in the mirrors but didn't see anything amiss. "What are you doing? Why are you stopping?" Kicking the door open, he got out and slammed the door shut again. She heard a loud bang as he punched the heavy fender as he walked past it and made her jump. Watching him through the windshield, she could see his jaw working as he stomped up the road away from the vehicle.

"Great." With enough effort, she got her window partway down and leaned out to yell that he was being stupid and childish, but then she caught the edge of his cursing and yelling and wisely rolled the window back up. "Oooo... he's mad." Their comm unit chose that particular moment to begin chiming softly. "Great.. " Picking it out of the satchel on the floor, she gave a last look out the windshield at the still cursing man as he continued away from her and the truck.

"CoverGirl here.. " She waited patiently, trying to judge how far BeachHead had gotten.

_"Duke here, I need the morning report from you guys, BeachHead hasn't called in."_ He didn't sound annoyed, so she figured he was having a decent enough morning. Of course, he hadn't needed to deal with BeachHead.

"All clear, just having a bit of a row this morning. Truck is running good, no hostiles. Umm.. you might possibly get a police query from the motel we stopped at last night." She decided on spur of the moment to confess about that, so that when he got the actual report he'd be prepared. "Some guy decided to kick in the room door.. so we left him hogtied for the cops. No big deal."

The comm was silent for a moment and then Duke's very controlled voice came through clearly. "_A guy kicked in the door? Was he suicidal? Anyone get shot?"_

"Yes... not when he kicked it in, but perhaps when he saw BeachHead standing there.. and no." She grinned at the silence while Duke processed the information. "We didn't even rough him up much.. Beach kept the guy's knife to give to SnakeEyes as a present though."

_"Great. Just great. Why is that you two get into more trouble on a simple transport mission than the other teams on covert operations? Put BeachHead on, will you? I want to check the itinerary_." Although he sounded resigned, he didn't sound angry, so she figured she had chosen correctly.

Checking on the figure about half a mile up the road, she hummed to herself. "Ahh.. about Beach.. I can't put him on the comm right now. He's.. umm.. busy."

_"What do you mean he's busy? Get him on the comm."_ Now Duke sounded vaguely annoyed.

She hummed softly. "Well.. see.. he's a little ways up the road, not more than a mile though.. it'll take a few minutes for him to get here." There was a indistinct squawk from the comm. "We kind of argued a little.. and he's walking up the road.. while yelling. You know, he's awfully hard-headed at times."

_"Yes, I'd noticed that aspect of his personality on occasion. Tell him you're sorry and get him back into the truck." _Duke sounded like he was being oh-so reasonable. She gritted her teeth hard. _"Yes, that's an order, so yes, you have to. I'm not going to be in a good mood if I have to come bail him out of a local county jail for public disturbance, followed by assaulting an officer, followed by assaulting an officer's patrol car.. and so on and so forth. You know how it'll end. And you know if they tazer him he'll be in a foul mood for at least a week."_

"Sir.. yes sir." She knew she sounded sulky. "But it WASN'T my fault that he missed the exit sign!"

_"Don't MAKE me drive across four states just to yell at you two! Get him back into the truck and get back on the drive. This SEAL is leaving in three hours, so you two don't have any reason not to book it back to base."_

"Yes sir." She clicked the comm unit off and sat with her arms crossed staring as the sergeant major came back up the road, still shouting and cursing and waving arms. He stopped about a hundred feet from the truck and stared at her angrily, his hands placed on his hips in that stubborn stance that said he was wishing he had her on the PT course. For a second, she pictured herself doing hundreds of push-ups beside the interstate and shivered.

Pushing her door open she stood on the threshold to yell at him. "Duke called, he said you have to get back in the truck and drive NOW!" Even as far away as he was, she saw the eyes go all squinty with anger and she got back in and shut her door.

Once he'd managed to yank open the driver's door and get in, he started to crank the truck up. She glanced at him sideways. "You don't have to be such a complete jerk ALL the time you know. Why don't you save it up and just be a butthead two days a week?"

He turned the engine off and looked at her. "Alright." He kicked his door back open and walked around to her side, yanking open her door. "Get out."

"What?? I'm not getting out! Get your hands off me!!" He'd reached up and pulled her bodily from the seat, and keeping one hand wrapped up in her jacket, he dragged her protesting to the back of the cargo bed. "What are you doing!? Get OFF ME!!"

Grabbing her belt in one hand and the collar of her jacket in the other, he literally tossed her up into the back. He carefully refastened the tarp down while she cursed loudly. Slamming the passenger door, he clambered back into the cab and cranked up, listening to the muffled cursing and yelling in the back. Once he'd pulled out into traffic, the yelling was a lot more indistinct, with the engine noise drowning her out. Reaching behind him, he pounded on the metal cab. "KEEP IT DOWN BACK THERE!"

As he expected, the screaming and shouting got louder, so he flicked on the radio and found himself a country station to listen to. Twisting the volume knob to the highest setting made the shouts disappear and he smiled to himself just a little bit as he drove.

* * * *

Less than twenty minutes went by before he noticed a chirping noise and turned the radio off. The comm unit was bleeping at him and he reached to dig it out of the bag trying not to swerve while he did so. With the radio off, he could hear some complaining from the back, but it was relatively quiet.

"BeachHead.." He waited and watched the traffic around him.

_"Duke.. how's it going?"_

"Peachy. How come you gotta send this danged tank jockey along to annoy me all the danged time?" Beach figured that the girl had been complaining to Duke when he'd called earlier so he'd just return the favor.. just to be fair.

_"Because you don't get along with most of the rest as good as you do with her. You have less than one day of driving left, try to stop the fighting until you get back to base." _

Beach really didn't think it all that fair that Duke was acting like it was all his fault that they were fighting. "I ain't fighting with HER. Besides.. she's riding in the danged back now, so it should be quiet for a while." He scowled at nothing in particular.

_"She's in the BACK? What the.. BeachHead! You put her back in the cab RIGHT BLASTED NOW! Of all the irresponsible... childish.." _Duke sputtered a little bit.

"She's a lot easier to get along with if we can't talk. Besides.. there's crates back there to sit on. She's fine." BeachHead grumbled to himself grumpily even as he started checking to pull back onto the side of the road. Instead, he saw a rest stop up ahead and pulled into that. "Fine.. but when she goes and shoots me, I'm putting in a formal complaint against you!"

_"Against ME!? You stubborn.. just pull over and let her back into the cab! Good LORD!! Dealing with the two of you is like handling pre-schoolers! Stop being such babies and do your job! Duke out!" _

The comm unit went dark and BeachHead frowned. "Fine. FINE SIR!!" Yelling at the comm unit wasn't all that satisfying and he got the truck parked and tried to get out. The driver's door stuck fast and he had to really pound it with his foot to get it opened. Stomping around to the back he yanked the tarp open and caught a boot to his face. "OW!! DANG IT!!" He caught the second kick in one hand and yanked her off her feet. She landed with a very satisfying thump on her rear on the bed of the truck. "Stop KICKING ME! You two-bit greasemonkey!"

"Overbearing gorilla!" She aimed another kick at his hand and he snatched it back. "You just TRY putting your hands on me again! You'll pull back a stump!"

"If I put hands on ya, I'll be beating some sense into yer head! Skinny airhead! Get in the danged cab!" He stepped back as she tried to kick him in the head again. "You kick me one more danged time!! Do it! I will take you outa this danged truck and beat you all across the whole STATE! I swear ta GAWD! Woman or not, I will!!"

She started to climb out and stumbled as she stepped onto the asphalt. He caught her arm and righted her before she could fall. "LEGGO OF ME!" She yanked her arm away and he stepped back. "Don't TOUCH me!" She stared at him angrily. "I don't need your help! I'd rather BREAK MY LEG than have you help me!"

"FINE!! Break yer danged leg! Break BOTH yer danged legs!" He secured the tarp and stomped around to the front to get in. She managed to get into the passenger seat and slammed her door shut.

Once they were out on the interstate it was silent in the cab. Miles rolled by without a word from either of them. When the thumping began, it was startlingly loud without anything to drown it out. BeachHead looked out over the hood with concern. "What the heck now?"

"Tire's going flat.. " CoverGirl checked for cars in his blind spot. "You're clear to get over." He slowed down and got pulled off to the side of the road. "At least it's the right front, easiest one to change." Both of them got out and moved around to the half flattened tire. "I'll get the jack.. you get the tire?"

"Yep." The Sergeant major went to the back to climb in and pull out the heavy spare tire. CoverGirl positioned the jack under the axle and began the slow process of lifting the weight of the vehicle. She heard the loud thump of the tire going out of the back of the truck and looked over from her prone position laying under the front bumper to see Beach diving out after it before it could roll into traffic. She grinned widely listening to the creative cursing as he hefted it and brought it around to the front of the truck.

"Danged stupid suicidal tire. Ya ain't got this thing jacked up yet?" He began to loosen up the lug nuts as she continued working the jack. "Ahh dang.. " He stood abruptly and then leaned to look at her. "I'm gonna kick the tire iron.. get outa there.."

She grumbled under her breath but scooted out. "Alright.."

Once she was clear, he slammed one booted foot against the tire iron a few times to break the lug nut free. "Got it.."

She frowned at him. "Did you hurt your elbow?" He twisted his arm up and peered at the torn sleeve. "It's bloody.. you okay?"

"Yah. Tore my danged sweater.. have to put a new patch on it now.. great. Busted it open taking a header outa the back of the truck after the danged tire. I dunno why danged tires always gotta head fer traffic." He left off fiddling with the sleeve trying to see how badly he'd damaged his elbow. "Ya gonna get this thing jacked up or what?"

"Yeah yeah.. impatient Ranger.. I had to wait for you to break the lugs loose, didn't I?" She scooted back underneath to finish jacking up the front axle while he took off the lug nuts. "There..."

"About danged time.. fer a grease monkey.. yer slow as molasses working a jack."

"Yeah, I should have let you do it.. you'd be a much better authority on jacking things." She heard him turn the laugh into a cough, and twisted to look out as he managed to force a scowl onto his face.

"Shut up.. snarky corporals.. one a these days I'm gonna bust you back down ta private." He stood up and wrenched the massive tire off and chucked it onto the grass behind him.

"Ooooo, you wanna 'bust' me.. really?" CoverGirl tilted the new tire up and rolled it up into place letting BeachHead grab and lift it onto the studs. "Push the top in.. more.."

"How's that?" He grunted as he lifted up on the tire. "More? Feels like it's crooked.. want it lower?"

"Yeah.. lower.. no no.. keep the top in tight.." The woman put her shoulder onto it to push.

"It is tight!"

"Noo.. you have to push harder than that! Give it a good shove! You're the big strong Ranger man.. hit it." She grimaced as she tried to shove the wheel into place. "You're gonna have to hit it harder than that! Come on!! Harder!"

He grinned over the edge of the tire, and she rolled her eyes waiting for the obvious comment. He didn't disappoint. "Ahh.. they always say 'harder Beach, harder'..."

She smirked up at him. "Well.. if you'd do it right.. we wouldn't have to correct you.."

"Ooooo, ouch. Yer a mean woman.."

"And you're not getting this tire on.. kick the stupid thing.." She moved her hand out of the way just in time as he booted it hard, slamming it into place. "There you go!"

"Great.. I'll get the danged lugs on." Within a few minutes he had all the lugs started. "Drop the jack, I'll get these tightened down." He spun the tire iron easily, tightening each lug nut down hard. By the time she yanked the jack loose, he was working the last few nuts. She stood behind him and watched his shoulders straining as he pulled the tire iron to seat the lugs properly. A light sigh escaped her lips, and she jumped and rushed to go put the jack back before he realized she was drooling over his muscles.

She had rolled the flat tire back to the rear of the truck and struggled to lift it up high enough to get it onto the bed. Each time she swung it up, she missed by only a few inches, causing it to bounce painfully back. "Stupid.... " She swung again. "Huuuufffff... blast it!" Another heave. "Auuughh!!" She stopped and panted, glaring up at the truck.

Beach walked back and looked down at her with his head tilted in an amused fashion. Then he sniffed slightly. "Ya want me to take that?"

"No! I can do it just as well as YOU can!" She grabbed the tire and swung it up as hard as she could, not quite clearing the edge of the bed and bouncing it back again, nearly throwing herself down in the process. "BLAST IT!!" BeachHead opened his mouth and she pointed at him. "Shut it." He stepped back slightly to watch her take a better grip on the rim and throw it up into the back bumper, nearly losing her grip entirely.

"I'll.."

"SHUT UP!" She listened to him sigh heavily. "SHUT!!!! UP!!!"

"Alright." He waited while she heaved at the tire a few more times, standing patiently to the side just out of range of the tire or her boots. The only movement he made was to cross his arms and glare when some of the passing vehicles honked seeing him standing by while the much smaller woman tried to get a massive tire into the back of the truck.

Covered in sweat and cursing in a continuous stream of invective now, CoverGirl stopped and bent over the tire for a minute. BeachHead sighed, then stepped up and pulled the tire out of her grip, ignoring her protests to chuck it into the bed of the truck... using only one hand, she noted. He climbed in to secure it to the side panels, ignoring her extremely loud complaints that she was 'just about to get it' and that he had no right to take it away.

"I know.. I know.." He hopped back to the pavement and fastened the tarp. "My elbow is hurtin' and I was impatient.. sorry, I know you was jus' about to get it up there."

Once they were back in the cab, she sat back against the seat and wiped her hands mostly clean with a wet nap as he cranked up and pulled into the traffic. "Thanks Beach." He grunted softly. "Let me see your elbow." Tugging out their medical kit, she found the betadine scrubs and motioned at him. "Come on.. let's see it."

"It's fine." He tugged his arm free when she pulled at it. "Lemme finish shiftin' first!" He supposed he should be grateful it was his right arm, otherwise, she'd be across his lap trying to check his left arm while he tried to drive. The idea of her across his lap distracted him totally until she applied the scrub to his wounded elbow. "YeeeeOUCH!!" She recaptured his arm and wiped it a few more times, ignoring his protests. "OW!! Dang it woman! That stuff burns! Warn a guy why don't ya?! Geeez.. you're not getting that junk all over my sweater, are ya? It's gonna stain."

She leveled her gaze at him. "Really? You're kidding right? I'd think you wouldn't be able to FIND a new stain on this raggedy sweater. Besides, the elbow is all torn out now.. what does it matter?" She peeled the sleeve up anyway, easing it past the torn skin. "You really laid it open badly.."

He snorted. "I'll fix the sleeve. A good darning and a new patch over it, be good as new." He twisted his arm trying to look at his elbow. "Dang.. is it bleeding again?"

"No, it's bleeding STILL. And if you don't be still, it's going to keep bleeding. Stop bending it. Let me look." She poked at it, and cleaned the bits of asphalt and dirt out of the open flesh, ignoring the jerks and hisses of pain. "You're the only guy I know tough enough to drive while I do this sort of thing. I think it needs stitches."

"Just tape it.. it's fine." He tried not to yank it away as she did something to it. "Ow.. it hurts.. stop it. It's fine.. not like there's bone sticking out of it."

"Actually.. there's bone showing.. you should stop somewhere and let a doctor stitch it up." She was getting a chunk of gauze out to bandage it and he held his arm up at the mirror. "Stop moving it around!" 

"I wanna see how bad it is!" He stretched upwards to peer in the mirror at it. "Wow.. is that white bit the bone? Ouch.. no wonder it hurts." He lowered his arm and sat back. "So wrap it up, try to squish the skin back together when you tape it."

"You're impossible. When we get back to base, you're letting Doc look at it. No arguing! Either that, or we stop NOW." She carefully taped the wound shut and placed gauze over that, then set about wrapping the entire elbow joint up in an Ace bandage.

"Whatever. You're wrappin' it too tight." He checked the side mirror for traffic and eased over into the middle lane to pass a slow car driven by a guy who looked older than dirt itself.

"Stop being a baby.."

"Yeah, when my hand turns blue, that's a sign you're wrappin' the bandage too tight.. so loosen it up." He frowned at her and she sighed and unwrapped some of it to rewrap it slightly looser. "That's perfect."

"It's not tight enough, but if you're going to be a big giant whiny baby, then I'll put a loose wrap on it so I don't have to listen to your crying." She tucked the end in to fasten it. "There."

He gave the arm a experimental bend. "Thanks." They rode a few minutes and he glanced down. "Is that coffee fer me?"

She looked at it. "Well.. it was. But it's probably cold." She watched him think it over before he reached for it and sipped it, making a face. "Cold, huh?" He nodded and put it back. "Should have drank it when it was hot."

"Yeah. Well.. I was busy being told what a moron I am."

She listened to the calm tone, but watched the tightening around his eyes. "Sorry. You're not stupid." Her face heated slightly. "You just make me so mad sometimes. It's... it's like you go out of your way to drive me nuts, doing things to make me get so angry."

"Ha! Right. Like ya don't sit up at night thinking up things ta irk me." He shifted uncomfortably, watching the road with an intense stare to avoid looking at her.

The usual satisfaction she felt at annoying him was absent right now, and she took a deep breath. "I don't try to annoy you. Maybe.. maybe we just rub each other the wrong way too often." She watched him stiffen up. "Maybe we shouldn't serve together any more."

He turned and blinked at her. "You.. you don't wanna be around me?"

"Well.. you get mad at me." She took a deep breath. "Beach.. why don't you like me?"

He stared out across the interstate, jaw working slightly under the balaclava as he chewed his tongue thinking. "You really think that I don't like you?" Pausing just a few seconds, he glanced at her then away. "I do like you. Shoot.. if I didn't like ya, I guarantee I'd have offed ya by now." She laughed softly. "I like ya a lot. Even when ya drive me nuts.. even when I bitch and complain about stuff ya do.. I miss ya when yer not around." She distinctly saw a smile form under the cloth. "Yer the only one I ever wrote a letter to when I was gone fer three months overseas."

She looked at him sharply. "I never got any letter from you."

He blushed a deep shade of red. "I... I didn't never mail it. But I wrote it." She chuckled deep in her chest, trying to suppress the laughter. "Why are ya laughin' at me?"

"I'm not.. it's just.. " She lost the battle and laughed loudly for a few seconds. "I'm sorry.. but you're the ONLY guy I've ever known that could possibly get away with saying he wrote a girl a letter but never mailed it.. and make her feel so darn flattered!" She laughed again and was relieved when he smiled back.

"Well... there ya go." He sighed. "So.. "

She sighed as well, settling deeper into the truck seat. "So..." They glanced at each other and she burst out laughing again, hearing him chuckle the wonderful deep chuckle that no one ever got to hear. Usually any laughter was a harsh dismissive laugh that said he didn't care what sort of hurtful thing had just been said.

CoverGirl shook her head. "Aren't we a pair?"

He looked at her. "I dunno. Are we?" He seemed expectant, waiting to see what she would say. She felt vaguely annoyed that he would want her to make the decision. "What? Yer gettin' all squinty-eyed again."

"Well, if you would be.. uhh.. accepting of the idea.. why haven't you made any moves?" Somehow it was just easier to keep the conversation vague, as if one of them could somehow disavow any knowledge at any time.

He frowned. "Are ya kiddin me? I'm a Sergeant major.. yer a Corporal.. I couldn't say nuthin to ya! I already went through... " He shut his mouth suddenly. "I couldn't take the chance ya might think I was pressurin' ya.. tryin' to imply I might not take a 'no' from ya." He puffed out a breath. "I didn't want the possibility that ya would say 'yes' just because ya thought I might use my rank against ya if ya refused me. Okay?"

She straightened in the seat, blinking at his frankness. "I wouldn't have ever considered that. I mean.. if someone disrespects you, you'll beat the snot out of them in PT... but.. use your rank against someone, just because they wouldn't DATE you?" She eyed him sideways. "Are you suuuuure it's not because you'd be embarrassed if I turned you down?"

"Well... there is that too. No guy likes to hear 'thanks but no thanks'. But.. I'd a taken the chance.. if we were both the same rank." He glanced at her. "A'sides.. I asked ya out to eat. In the messhall.. but still. Hadn't I asked to sit with ya to eat dinner? And we went fer walks.."

"Well.. yeah. But Beach.. that's only considered 'dating' in grade school." She was getting more and more amused.

"Geez.. what do ya think I could do in the danged Pit? Shine yer bullets up fer ya?" He frowned. "Dang.. I shoulda thought of that.. "

"BeachHead.. seriously? Oh lord. I forget you never really dated." She laughed softly at the thought of him presenting her with a box of brightly shined ammo.

He sighed. "Yeah well.. I got told recently.. I should talk to my friends. Tell 'em stuff about myself, if they ask and all that. It's called bein' open and sharin'. Or.. maybe it was sharin' and bein' open.. but anyway, it means I should try to talk to my friends more."

"Really? Who convinced you of that? Psyche-out?" She smiled to herself.

"Naw! That head-shrink? Naw, it was Beth told me that." He relaxed somewhat as her eyes narrowed.

"Oh yess.. the infamous Beth." Her icy clipped tone made him glance over. "That's the aunt to your girl from Thanksgiving? I saw SnakeEyes mentioning a 'girlfriend' to you once after you guys came back." She tried very very hard not to sound jealous.

"What are ya goin' on about? June? Or do you mean Sallah? And SnakeEyes was joking.. I ain't got no girlfriend." He sounded annoyed and she frowned sulkily.

"I know that you did a bunch of stuff."

"Yeah? How exactly do ya know that?" He was thinking over everything that had happened since he'd returned from that vacation.

"I have my ways. So... who is this Sallah and would you like me to scratch out her eyes or pull out her hair first?" Her fierce expression made him nervous.

"Whoa.. slow up there. No attacking Sallah.. it's not like that. She's fourteen and at some weird stage in her life that she thinks she's gotta bug older guys. Something about father figures or safe men to practice on.. I forget what all Snakes told me about it.. but seriously.. not a girlfriend. Besides.. she's one that kept tellin' me I oughta go ahead and ask ya out.. "

"Really? Is she pretty though?" He puffed out a breath and gave her a look. "What?"

"She's FOURTEEN!! Don't be all jealous.. a'sides.. accordin' to you, we ain't datin' yet.. so YOU can't go being all possessive and jealous over me." He seemed rather smug to her.

"Really?" She straightened up and licked her lips slightly. "Then you won't care that I have a date when I get back.. with Dusty." She looked over in time to see the furious expression. "Oh.. kidding.. I don't really have a date.. don't kill him."

"Oh? Maybe I should break his left leg.. just in case.." He still looked like he was thinking of how deep to dig the unmarked grave and she shook her head. "I'll be really polite when I break it.. okay?"

"No.. no breaking Dusty's legs. I don't have a date with him, he's never even asked me out really.. I just wanted to make you jealous.. since you said I couldn't get jealous over you.. all that 'good for the goose' type lesson." He relaxed slowly, and she smiled. "Wow.. you'd really break his leg?"

"Yeah.. I'd snap him like a danged twig." He peered at her suspiciously. "Ya ain't saying that jus' so I won't break him.. right?"

"No no.. no dates planned with anyone. I swear!" She crossed her heart with a sincere expression. His jealousy somehow made her pleased. It shouldn't... really.. but.. she smiled anyway. "So.. are we gonna go out? Now that we've established that I won't think you're trying to use your rank.. and we know the rest of the Joes won't try to kick your butt for it.. or be able to kick your butt.. unless it's SnakeEyes.. or maybe HeavyDuty.. maybe GungHo.. but GungHo is pretty friendly.. I don't think he would kick your butt.. although he probably COULD kick you around like a soccer ball..." He cleared his throat and she stopped. "Sorry."

"GungHo could not 'kick me around like a soccer ball'. Anyway, yes, I'd like to.. take ya out somewhere." He suddenly got a pained expression. "I'll hafta ask Duke if I'm allowed ta go into town yet.."

"You're not allowed? Oh wait.. never mind. That was a long time back.. months. I'm certain you'd be okay now." She tried not to grin at the memory of how very embarrassed he'd been over THAT particular night.

"Yeah well.. in this case, I'd rather make certain I'm allowed back into town, instead of getting tossed into the stockade afterwards." He sighed. "But, long as Duke says I can go to town.. I'll take ya out fer dinner in town."

She crossed her arms. "Well.. I don't know about that. You didn't ask me."

He blinked at her. "Whaddaya mean?"

"You didn't ask me out." She raised an eyebrow. "You did not say, 'would you like to go to dinner with me' or anything like that." Carefully controlling the smirk at the look of complete consternation on his face, she looked over at him.

"Yer jus' bustin' my balls now. Alright fine.. would you like to go out to dinner with me sometime?" The area around his eyes had tightened up again as she smiled to herself.

She placed a finger on her chin and pretended to think it over. "Hmm... well.. I might be washing my hair.."

"Yer treadin' on thin ice girl.."

"Okay okay!! Yes, I'd love to." She smiled at him, watching him roll his eyes.

"Gawd, ya make such a bother out of it. Shouldn't I get partial credit fer the tearoom?" He looked hopeful over that and she considered it.

Humming softly as she watched a small town go by as they rode down the interstate, she finally nodded slowly. "I guess we can call that a tentative lunch out together. How's that?" He smiled widely. "Okay.. but don't get all egotistical over it."

"I won't." He stretched himself up in the seat, then twisted to rub his back on the seat. Grumbling under his breath, he twisted to rub his shoulder instead.

"What is wrong with you? Starting to sound like there's a grumpy bear driving." Putting her foot down, she leaned over and peered at him.

"I got an itch.. only bad thing about this danged ballistics vest.. can't reach to scratch an itch worth a darn." He twisted to rub his back against the seat again.

"Oh? So the smell, the stiffness, the bulky weight? All that is fine.. but the fact that you can't scratch under it, that bothers you?" Her smile wasn't unnoticed and he made a face at her.

"Yeah.. it does. Usually I'm used to it.. but when there's an itch... once over in Bolivia.. I got fleas. Man.. THAT was miserable. Seriously, I thought I would go mad. I submerged in a pond for almost three hours trying to drown the little buggers, but I guess they can hold their breath good, cause it didn't get rid of them."

Now she was giggling. "Fleas? I mean.. I call you the war dog.. but fleas? Should I get you a flea collar for the next trip out?" She watched him twisting his shoulder against the seat and suddenly reached over. "Oh for goodness sake.. lean forward.." Sliding her hand under the back plate, she scratched his back for him.

"Ahh ahhhh.. jus' a little bit up.. yeah.. right there.." He half closed one eye and let out a noise that was suspiciously close to a low purr. When she quit, he shook himself and sat up with a satisfied expression. "Much better.. thanks."

"You're welcome." They rode in silence for a short time.

BeachHead suddenly spoke up. "Will you dress up?"

"What?" CoverGirl had been thinking about the engine she'd just acquired for a street racing mustang.

"For dinner.. if we can go to town." He glanced at her then away, suddenly looking like he wished he hadn't said anything. "You ain't gotta.. I jus' was wonderin'..."

"Sure Beach. I like dressing up. How about you?" She wondered about the sly smile that seemed to hide underneath the cloth of his mask.

"I think I can find something clean to put on." He didn't elaborate and she shrugged and put it aside. Maybe he really meant just that. He certainly didn't have issues showing up in the messhall dripping mud onto the floors.. and tables.. and tablemates... She sighed and put the worry aside. It didn't matter what he wore to go eat dinner. As he'd handily proved in the tearoom, he was perfectly capable of behaving with manners in a nice eating establishment.

She decided to change the subject. "Where shall we stop to eat lunch?" She glanced at him. "Do I get to pick?"

"I get to pick.. you picked lunch yesterday." He was busily looking at a car creeping up in the fast lane.

"But you picked that barbeque place for dinner." She leaned over to be able to look in his side mirror to see what he was watching. There was a dark sedan moving up fairly quickly and she pulled out her 9mil handgun.

"Yeah.. but ya picked lunch.. " BeachHead eased the truck to the edge of his lane. "Why? Ya got some idea 'bout where ta stop?" He turned to check the righthand lanes. "Am I clear over there.. jus' in case I gotta move?"

She did a quick check. "Clear back to that semi-truck on this side.. can you see the driver in that car?" She bent and tucked her face next to his shoulder to look out his mirror again. The sedan had settled just off their bumper over in the fast lane. "Slow down.. let them pass if that's what they're trying.. is that a passenger?"

His voice sounded tense. "Yeah.. their windows are still up.. hang tight, I'm gonna slow way down.. let 'em fly past.. be ready.." His foot came off the gas and the huge deuce-and-a-half dropped speed instantly, the sedan suddenly passing them. As the car went by, the two Joes saw the family riding in it staring as the military truck dropped back.

CoverGirl grinned at the Sergeant major as he cursed softly and hit the gas again, struggling to bring the heavy cargo truck back up to speed. "Wow Beach.. that was a close one. That toddler looked like he might have been planning a raid on the truck."

"Shut up Barbiedoll.. which one of us has a danged pistol out?" He smirked as she hurried to tuck the gun away. "Yeah... get over on your danged side of the seat."

She scooted over. "I swear.. I'm getting almost as paranoid as you are."

"I know.. makes me so proud of ya.."

"Oh shut up." Settling back into her seat, she looked out the window and watched a few cars go by. "Can we stop at Hooters for lunch?"

"No, we ain't stoppin' at Hooters. Not fer lunch.. not fer dinner.. not at all. Why the heck ya wanna stop there anyway?" Beach tried to keep a calm even tone so he didn't show how perturbed he was over the stupid car.

"They have great wings. Besides.." Her sly grin made him sigh. "I want to watch you trying not to look at all the exposed cleavage."

"Why the heck would ya think I wouldn't look?" He shook his head.

"Well, of course.. wait.. you'd look?"

"A'course I'd look! Geez woman.. why wouldn't I look? They go putting themselves up on display.. why not look?" His lowered brow told her he was expecting her to make some joke out of it at his expense.

"Well.. you know.. because!" Crossing her arms across her own chest, CoverGirl frowned and looked out the window. "Because.. " She tried not to feel hurt. "Just because!"

"That ain't no danged reason. I mean.. am I not supposed to look at them ladies? That's why guys GO to danged Hooters.. it sure as heck ain't the wings." He huffed and shook his head. "Ain't like I'm gonna go slappin' 'em on their butts.. geez."

"Oh you'd BETTER not!" Her fierce reply made his eyebrows go up. "Oh you LET me catch you.."

"Whoa whoa!! Yer jealous!" He smiled happily. He'd figured it out all on his own this time. "Ya don't WANT me lookin' at other ladies'.. chests." She whacked his arm hard. "Ow! Dang it! I ain't DONE nothin' to go whacking me for!"

"You were thinking about it! Why do you have to be such a jerk!?" Twisting aside she put one foot up onto the dash and sulked.

"I ain't been a jerk! Yer the danged one wantin' to go to Hooters in the first place! I'm the one sayin' no!" He'd never in a hundred years understand her reasoning. She just never made any sense. "Why am I not gettin' good points fer sayin' I don't WANT to go to danged Hooters, if'n I ain't supposed to be lookin' at other women.. and I don't wanna go to a place to look at other women??"

She glared at him. "You 'don't want to go' for the wrong reason!"

He rolled his eyes and took a second to thump his forehead onto the steering wheel once. "Oh fer GAWD'S SAKE WOMAN!! What the heck does it matter WHY I don't wanna go!? The danged result is that I won't be in a place to look at women!! Why can't ya MAKE SENSE!?!" He stared at her and suddenly saw her smile.

"You're all upset." She looked happy about it and he became confused. "Awww... Beach. That's so sweet."

"Whut?" Now she really had lost him. "A'course I'm upset..."

Her hand settled onto his forearm and she leaned towards him just a little bit, making him nervous that she was going to land a really nasty whack any second. "You're upset because I'm unhappy... it's okay. I'm not upset anymore."

"Uhh..." He tried to think through what he could say. He wasn't upset that she was unhappy.. he was upset that she didn't make any sense. He was upset because she was unreasonable... upset because she was a complete lunatic? Probably shouldn't use any of that. "Yeeeah. Whut yooou said.. yeah." He glanced over nervously and saw she was smiling serenely and watching the landscape go by. Letting out a slow breath of relief, he settled back to driving.

"Beach?"

He straightened up and looked at her, bracing himself for the next question and hoping he could come up with an answer that wouldn't land him back into trouble. "Yeah?"

"If you're ready for a break, I could take over the driving for a while." Her clear gaze held his for a moment and he mulled it over, trying to find any weird hidden meanings behind her statement that would get him into deep water because it really meant something about a life lesson or looking at some other woman's butt.

After a second, he hazarded an answer. "Okay. If yer sure yer ankle is okay." She sat back and he gave another sigh. "Next rest stop?"

"Sure."

He figured that one was just a false alarm and didn't assign himself any points for the exchange. He really was going to have to write a loong letter to Aunt Beth to ask her about stuff from this trip, for sure.

* * * *

End Chapter

I hope that was satisfying. Please feel free to review or comment, and as always, thank YOU for continuing to read my writing. I enjoy writing and I hope all are still enjoying reading it!


	7. Chapter 7:New driver

Chap 7

Back on the interstate.. new driver up...now we can see CoverGirl in her element.. tormenting Beach.. oh.. and driving a large vehicle like a maniac. So glad everyone is enjoying, especially that last super long chapter!

* * * *

"Aaaaaaaahhhhh! Finally.. I get to drive!" CoverGirl eased her leg up a bit from the clutch pedal and rotated her ankle. Settling it on the floor gingerly, she shifted herself around in the seat and smiled. "Now we'll see what kind of speed this thing can put out! I bet I can get it to ninety in the next five miles! Whatcha wanna bet, Beach?"

He clenched his teeth as she swung the huge truck around a RV, coming within a few feet of taking out a compact car's front end with the back of the rumbling deuce. "No bet.. keep it below the danged speed limit Barbie." His right hand was hanging onto the dashboard as she slung the truck back into the center lane with a careless ease. "Gawd help me.. yer gonna get both of us killed."

"Oh calm down grandma. You're just peeved that I can eek some speed out of this old hulk." She leaned on the driver's window and smiled over at him with a confident air while he closed his eyes and refused to watch her squeezing between a semi-trailer and a SUV.

"Ah'm peeved that ya wanna die by fiery wreckage and yer hell-bent on takin' me with ya." He cracked open an eye and saw a bumper. He squinched it shut again. "Oh gawd.."

"Oh please! I've NEVER wrecked.. um.. hmm.. I've never EVER wrecked this particular model of cargo truck yet!" Her tone was still pleased and he hazarded opening his eyes. "See? We're fine!"

"We're within ten feet of a semi-truck bumper.. back off it!" Since the Sergeant major looked like he was on the verge of an aneurism, CoverGirl took pity on him and eased off the gas slightly to put a bit more distance between the truck and themselves. "Thank you."

"We'd get better gas mileage if you'd let me ride his draft."

"We'll live longer if'n ya don't."

"You're such a pantywaist when it comes to driving. Beach.. you got to learn to let go.. to.. to just let things happen!" She raised her hands off the wheel and let the truck begin to glide slowly to the right. "Sometimes you just need to let life take the lead, you know what I mean?"

He leaned away from his door as they approached the side of a livestock trailer. "Yeah yeah yeah YEAH!! I GET IT!! Gawd woman turn the danged wheel!"

She sighed at him and placed a hand on the steering wheel and gently eased them back into place. "See? Everything is fine. No wreckage.. no bad things happened. Now.. don't you feel better? Like you are more one with life?"

He stared at her and pulled off the balaclava to wipe his sweaty face. "Ah'd prefer not ta become one with the danged pavement, Barbie. Pull over.. Ah'm drivin'."

"No way. You've driven almost the whole trip. It's my turn now!" She grinned and bounced in the seat some. "I love BIG vehicles!! They just make me want to run over things!"

"Pull it over, Evil Kneival. That's it. Yer not drivin no more." Beach's stern tone had nearly as much effect on the tank jockey as it did on the truck itself. Actually.. he was pretty sure the truck listened better.

"No. I'm driving now. We'll take three days if I let you idle along at fifty-freaking-miles-an-hour. We'll make up some time now.. be back at the Pit in time for an early dinner."

Beach winced as she pulled back into the fast lane and gunned the engine. "In time fer an early grave maybe.."

"What's that? I couldn't hear you over the SHEER HORSEPOWER!!" She slammed the gas pedal down again and crowed happily as she passed the semi-trailer with ease. "Look, see? We're already doing nearly eighty! Of course.. we're on a down-slope.."

"Slow down!" Beach heard the communicator chiming and dug it out with one hand while holding on to the dashboard with the other. "BeachHead."

_"Beach.. it's Duke. Got an ETA?"_

"About ten minutes if'n Barbie don't let off the DANGED GAS!! TRUCK TRUCK!! LOOK OUT FER THE TRUCK!!" BeachHead sucked air and winced as she swung into the slow lane to go around a pair of car haulers and rushed up behind a cement truck only to swerve smoothly back into the center lane just before they would have rear-ended it. "Oh gawd.. we're gonna arrive sometime this afternoon.. if'n we ain't a ball of wreckage.."

_"CoverGirl is driving?"_

"Yeah.. if'n ya wanna call it that.. Ah think it's piloting below allowed airspace the danged speed she's at.. WATCH IT!! There's a car there!!" Beach closed his eyes. "That's it. Ah'm gonna die Duke. Tell Lifeline he can have mah stuff but give mah guns ta SnakeEyes.. okay?"

Duke chuckled over the comm line. "_I'm certain she won't actually have a wreck, but tell her to keep it below the speed limit_."

Beach held up the communicator and raised his eyebrows. "Hear that! BELOW the speed limit! Duke's orders!"

She smiled. She stepped on the gas harder. "Sorry.. can't hear over the engine noise!"

"Duke.. she's gonna kill me.. it's payback fer all the ten mile runs I sent her on."

_"CoverGirl.. don't kill the Sergeant major. We might need to have him stand in front of us during a firefight.. and it's much harder to prop up a dead body to do that with."_

Beach snorted loudly. "Oh that's very danged funny Duke. Danged funny."

CoverGirl grinned hugely and leaned to talk loud enough for the comm to pick it up. "How about I wreck just enough to break one of his legs Duke.. is that okay with you?"

_"I suppose.. try to make it the left leg.. he just got over the right one healing up. We want the scar tissue to be even so he doesn't limp in circles."_

"Ya'll both chappin' mah ass." BeachHead glared at his teammate. "Is there any real reason fer me not to turn off this comm unit now?"

_"Well, Flint says he wouldn't mind listening in while you scream like a little girl because of her driving.. but otherwise.."_

BeachHead cut the comm unit off with a click. "Danged smartasses." He tucked it back into the box and looked over. "Are ya jus' about done actin' crazy?"

"No. I figure it'll take at LEAST an hour to get it all out of my system." She rocked side to side in the seat.

"Great.. by then we'll stop fer lunch and Ah can puke up mah breakfast.. watch that truck.. Courtney.. watch.. TRUCK!! TRUCK!!! GEEZ OH DANGED PETE!!! LEFT!!! GO LEFT!!"

"Oh for pity's sake Beach.. we had at LEAST two feet of clearance!!"

* * * *

"Beach, I never said I wasn't going to drive AFTER lunch too. You should be happy you can just relax while I chauffeur you back to the Pit." CoverGirl scrunched herself down in the seat then bounced slightly. Somehow the Sergeant major had thought he would get to take back over driving duties after they stopped to eat. She'd disabused him of THAT notion quite quickly by snatching the keys from under his hand at the table. Once ensconced behind the wheel, there wasn't a lot he could do to dislodge her without getting her REALLY angry.

"I don't see why ya wanna drive." BeachHead's slightly grumpy tone made her look over at him. She'd made sure he got an iced sweetened tea to go even. He should have already been in a better mood.

"I like driving. Besides.. you're a terrible driver. You loiter along at the minimum speed possible." Watching him shrug inside the tactical vest, she reached over and patted his thigh. "It's fine Beach.. you're a great soldier. You don't have to be good at driving too."

He glared at her now. "I'm an excellent driver."

"You drive really slow on the driveway?" She grinned at him.

He gave her a blank look. "Whut?"

"Never mind.. you wouldn't get it. Yes, you drive just fine." She sighed and concentrated on getting enough speed to pass the small sports car. "Look at that.. that is one sexy Mustang.. look at the custom rims.."

"What driveway?"

"Drop it about the driveway.. it's nothing. I was making a joke." She eased up beside the car and checked for a air vent on the hood. "Ehh standard engine.. fancy paintjob on a lot-car. All talk and no walk, buddy."

"I don't get it.. what the heck is funny about driveways?" BeachHead was quickly becoming annoyed. "If that's a joke, it sure don't make no sense."

"BeachHead.. it's a line from a Tom Cruise movie.. okay? If you didn't see the movie, it doesn't make any sense. It's from Rainman. Did you see Rainman?" Her impatient tone made him scowl.

Thinking it over a moment, he brightened. "Is that where that guy charges folks money to make it rain?"

She held in the sighof frustration. "Yes, Beach. That's the one."

"Then no.. I didn't see that one." He settled back into the seat again.

She gave up. "Hey.. want to play 'I spy' yet?"

"No." BeachHead shifted himself down in the seat slightly and got comfortable. "Not even a little bit."

"You are NO fun on road trips." She pouted at him with her lip out trying to get a reaction. He ignored her with ease. "Aww.. come on. That restaurant wasn't THAT bad."

"It was full of little kids." He glowered and pulled the facemask back on.

"But they liked you, Beach!" She bent over the steering wheel to rest her arms over the rim. "They all just wanted to look at the big Army guy."

"Ya know how hard it is to eat yer danged meal with half a dozen kids starin' at ya?" He grumped loudly and shifted around in the seat, getting his shoulder against the door comfortably. "All the danged moms acted like I was gonna up and step on one of the little buggers."

"Well.. you DID say.. 'Get outa the way a'fore Ah step on ya!' to that one..." She tried her best to mimic his deep voice and accent. "That might have given them the first clue that it was a legitimate concern..."

"Well, she shoulda kept her kid outa the walkway." He glowered. "Sides.. I stepped over him."

"Beach.. your boot was practically the size of the poor kid's head. You terrified him." CoverGirl coughed a few times trying to control the laughter.

"It'll toughen him up." The Ranger's volume lowered and he yawned. "Burstin' into tears jus' cause someone stepped over him. Never be a tough guy with that sorta attitude."

"He was like.. three years old."

"Gotta start sometime." He yawned again and then sighed deeply.

CoverGirl looked at him. "Beach.. you going to sleep?"

"Naw.." His eyes started to shut and he blinked a few times, crossing his arms across his chest and giving a himself a little shake. "I'm awake.."

"Okay.. " She watched his eyes drift nearly shut again. "I wanted to ask you about mounting new .50cal's on the Maulers turrets."

He blinked once but his eyes refused to stay open. "Hmm-mm.."

"Well.. I'm not sure where we'd be able to put a gunner's seat though." She glanced over and watched his eyes shut again. "Are you listening?"

"Yip." Despite the answer, his breathing began to deepen.

"Do you have any... Beach.. you asleep?" She waited while his head leaned forward slightly. When the first faint wheeze sounded, she rolled her eyes. "Great.. go to sleep on me, why don't you." She drove a few miles and then looked over at the soundly sleeping Ranger. He'd had a long few days and just ate a huge meal.. but still.. sleeping? Really? While SHE was driving? He should know better. Taking the wheel firmly, she turned it just a tad to the left then back quickly. The truck swerved just slightly and Beach's head rocked to the side and whacked into the window with a thump.

"Huh?" He blinked a few times.

She looked out through the windshield innocently. "..put a .50cal up top.. but the turret still needs to function." She looked at him. "Have you been listening?"

"Yeah.. yeah.. uhh.. turret.." He took a deep breath and tried to put together the missing bits of a conversation he hadn't had. "Onna Mauler.."

"Yeah.. think it's do-able?" She was having a hard time keeping her face straight as he yawned again.

"No. Why have a exposed.. " Another yawn. "Exposed gunner. Point of a tank is the armor.." His eyes sagged shut again. She waited until he let out a soft snore and swerved just enough to cause his head to impact the window with a loud thump. "OW!" He blinked and looked a bit confused, trying to sit up. "Uhh.. where was I?"

"You were telling me about the new obstacle for your PT course.. you said something about some planks you got in?" She carefully kept her expression neutral and he blinked and reached up to rub the sore spot on the side of his head.

"Uhh.. yeah.. umm." He rubbed at his eyes a little thinking. "I did get some new lumber in.. uuhh.. I think it's gonna make a new A-frame. The old one has about had it."

Within a few minutes of idle chatter about building things, he began to nod off and she trailed off quietly and let him fall asleep. Once he was soundly asleep, the slight jog of the steering wheel brought head into window with the same satisfying 'thunk'.

"Ow.." One blinky and awake Ranger.

"Are you even listening to me?" She appeared just a little perturbed. It was a real struggle to not laugh.

"A'course I'm listenin'.. geez.." He took a deep breath and did his best to look coherent.

"Sure you were.. if you were listening.. how many penguins?" She looked down her nose at him in a way that said she KNEW he wasn't going to be able to tell her the answer.

"Huh? Penguins? I mean.. dang.. hang on.. I uh.. I wasn't sure.. how many.. you were.. umm.. referencing.. does it count.. the other.. uhh.. ones?" He was reaching with all his might for the most vague answer to gain a few hints as to what conversation he'd forgotten.

Keeping a straight face was difficult but she used her training in covert operations. Came in handy when she needed to stymy the odd Ranger on occasion too. "Oh I see.. you weren't listening AT ALL! You could have just said you weren't interested."

"No no.. I'm interested.. "

"No that's fine. We won't even talk about it. We'll just talk about other stuff. It's just fine. Never mind." Her curt tone said more than the words and even BeachHead sensed it.

"No.. I really want to hear about the penguins." He summoned up a look of great interest. "I got most of the idea.. I just.. you know.. I just didn't quite get it.. entirely.."

"Don't even start. I don't want to talk about it now. You've soured the whole topic." She sighed heavily. A glance showed he that he looked rather guilty. "Talk about something else."

"I dunno what to talk about." He sighed and looked out the window. "What's up with that car yer rebuilding?" She brightened and chattered away about the bits and pieces she'd recently purchased through Scarlett's relative. Somewhere between the discussion about whether the original dials were worth the authenticity versus having newer versions that were more accurate and the minor rant about rims having chrome on them.. he fell asleep again. This time her eyes narrowed and the steering wheel jog was a bit more.. forceful.

"CRACK!" His whole body jerked up and he blinked. "Whoa.. ow." She almost felt bad for how hard he'd smacked his head.. but then.. he _had_ fallen asleep while she was talking about her beloved '64 GTO.

".. Roadblock was saying his pack has those triple-stitched seams.. what's wrong Beach?" He was glowering and rubbing his head.

"Ehh.. nuthin'." He looked down at a passing sedan from his window and then looked at her. "Best seams on a pack or equipment is rolled french seams with a double line of stitchin'. Fabric rips alongside those seams.. they don't come apart." His utterly bland expression made her eyes narrow slightly. "What? Yer givin' me that 'look' again."

"How exactly do you know about french seams?" She peered at him another second before turning her attention to the road.

"Half our equipment has got french seams. What? Ya think I don't never repair nothin'?" He snorted at her. "Heck.. who do ya think fixed that hole in SnakeEyes's favorite blue sweater?"

"I know, I know. I saw you doing that patching on it in the rec room. I remember Shipwreck giving you heck about it, calling you a girly man for playing with yarn." She grinned at the memory.

"Yeah, I remember Snakes puttin' the point of his katana between his legs in warnin' fer him to back offa teasin' me before I decided I wasn't gonna fix it. Snakes LIKES that danged old sweater." Beach inhaled deeply and tried to blink himself alert. "Dang woman.. watch yer lane! Don't you bang us into that gas tanker."

"Stop being such a nervous-nellie, Beach. I'm not going to wreck the truck." She ignored the fact that they were closing the distance between themselves and the tanker. "Why are you so bent on harping about my driving?"

"I ain't bent on nothin' but staying alive another day. It's my danged side of the truck what will hit first!" BeachHead leaned away from his door instinctively. "Gawd! Get over!"

"Easy Grandma." She let the truck slide over into the fast lane just before impact and passed the tanker. "See? I know what I'm doing Beach, just relax."

He slid down in the seat again, propping himself up against the door. "If'n ya don't mind.. I'm gonna take a nap. Ate too much lunch." Tucking his chin in, he almost immediately let his eyes half shut. "Sides... if I'm gonna die in a fiery wreck, I'd rather I was asleep during it."

"I thought you were my navigator. Now you're going to sleep?" CoverGirl frowned.

"Ain't gotta change lanes fer the next three hundred miles Barbiedoll.. I think even you'd have a heck of a hard time gettin' us lost on that." Her eyes narrowed slightly as he yawned and continued. "Jus' try to keep it around the speed limit and.. " Another deep sigh. "..and try to not get.. lost.."

She sat quietly and waited for him to settle into a decently deep sleep. Get them lost? Her? She glared over at him as he slept. "It's on like Donkey Kong, Sneeden."

It was about twenty miles of driving before she found a rest-stop that had semi-trucks parked along the side in the rear truck parking. She was very careful taking the ramp into the place, being sure to make easy gradual turns so BeachHead didn't wake up, downshifting so smoothly that there wasn't the slightest lurch or bumping.

Once she was into the truck parking, she made a U-turn and lined up with the front of one of the largest parked semi-trucks. "Get us lost..." Her soft voice didn't wake the sleeping Ranger and she headed directly head-on towards the parked Freightliner. Easing them towards it, she waited until she got within about twenty-five feet to slam the brakes, honk the horn and scream at the top of her lungs.

"BEEEACH!!! LOOK OUT!!!"

He came awake and climbed the ceiling of the cab at the sight of a oncoming semi-truck grill, slammed into the dashboard and somehow managed to get both combat boots onto the dash while almost making it behind the seat.. all while screaming.

He shut up abruptly when he realized they hadn't died yet. "What the..." His gaze suddenly sharpened to lethal fury and he turned on her where she was desperately attempting to kick the driver's door open while laughing so hard she was actually afraid she'd wet herself. Just as he made a grab for her, the door popped open and she scrambled out. "KREIGER!! GET BACK HERE!!"

He didn't even try to open the passenger door, he came out the driver's door, landing in a tuck-and-roll that would have done one of the ninjas proud. She was holding out both hands to him in a desperate hope he wouldn't actually murder her outright. It was hard to plead for forgiveness while laughing so hard tears were coming out of her eyes. She gasped in relief when he came to a stop right up in her face to scream at her rather than actually punching her.. because had the situation been reversed.. she would definitely have punched him in the nose.

"WHAT THE EVERLOVIN' HELL WAS THAT ABOUT!? Ya got NOTHIN' better to do than play pranks on me!! You drop RIGHT GODDAMN NOW AND GIMME FIFTY!!!" She collapsed and started putting out push-ups while struggling to stop laughing. "Make that FIFTY fer pullin' the danged prank and FIFTY fer laughing about it!! AND FIFTY MORE FER RUNNIN'!!!" He seethed and stalked back over to the deuce and smashed a fist into the fender before returning to yell at her some more. "WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU THINK THAT WAS FUNNY!?! Think Ah won't take all this crud out on the danged PT course when we get back!? Yer gonna be doin' laps until yer danged LEGS FALL OFF!!!! I hope it was all worth it!"

She gasped while pumping out her seventy-ninth push-up. "Yeah.. eighty.. it was TOTALLY worth it.. eighty-one.."

"PUT ANOTHER FIFTY ON IT THEN!" He felt the vein in his forehead pinch and growled loudly.

"HEY!! You leave her alone!" The stern voice came from his right and BeachHead spun on one heel to glare at the offending party that was daring to contradict him. The sight of the drill sergeant focusing on him almost made the young man turn to flee but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it in front of the gorgeous blond woman. One more time that a man's testicles overruled his good sense of survival. "You.. uh... stop bullying her.. she's... err... I mean.."

When BeachHead advanced on him, the guy really should have taken his chances on running but his legs reverted to basic primate terror in the face of a outraged alpha male.. and he cringed and showed a fear-filled grin. Beachhead's snarl got louder as he came up to within inches of the guy's face. "ARE YA SERIOUSLY TALKIN' TA ME!? YA WANNA GO?? LET'S GO, YA PATHETIC MAGGOT OF A POGUE!! FRIGGIN' CIVIE GONNA COME GET IN MAH FACE!?"

CoverGirl somehow managed to insert herself between the two men. "Hey.. ease down Beach.. he's a civie..back up.." As long as Beach's hands remained clenched at his sides she felt fairly safe that he wasn't about to engage in wholesale slaughter of everything living in the rest-stop. "Sir.. you should probably leave.. at a high rate of speed.. now." She gave a light experimental shove at the massive chest of the angry Ranger in front of her. "Beach come on.." It was like pushing against a brick wall.. if brick walls made noises like murderous gorillas. "Beach.. you don't want Hawk to come have to bail you out of jail.."

"Back the hell off, Kreiger!" He still stepped backwards about half an inch when he said it.

"I know.. I'm sorry.. bad idea.. back it up.. " She stepped closer to him and he eased back another half step. "Come on.. let's go back to the truck.." Another step towards him into his space which made him back up again. "Let it go.. truck Beach.."

"Stupid civilian pogue.. buncha half-wits.." He twisted himself around to stalk back to the truck, still snarling angrily under his breath. The inoffensive fender acquired another large dent with a clang as he passed it. "GET IN THE DANGED TRUCK COURTNEY!!!" She scrambled up into the driver's seat and closed the door as he walked a few circles in the parking spot next to the truck, muttering incoherently. After about ten minutes he finally got into the passenger seat and slammed his door. "Just drive damn it."

She cranked the big truck up and meekly maneuvered them through the parking lot back to the interstate again. "I'm sorry Beach."

"Shut up. I mean it. If you open yer danged mouth I swear I WILL throw you out of this danged truck." His clipped tone made her snap her mouth shut. "That was the single stupidest thing ya have EVER done." She started to feel the grin beginning and grimmed up with a massive effort. "Ah cannot BELIEVE ya would do something like that ta me."

She turned a rather incredulous look on him. "Beach.. I prank you ALL the time! Don't you think you're being a LITTLE melodramatic?"

"Usually ya don't choose to publicly humiliate me in front a bunch of civies." She glanced over at the man. Was that a touch of hurt in his voice? Had she managed to actually touch a nerve? "Ah wouldn't a gone ta danged sleep if'n Ah hadn't trusted ya." He slipped down in the seat and brooded.

"Beach come on. It was just a joke. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I play jokes on you because I like you. Come on." His face didn't show a trace of expression as he looked out the windshield. "Come on.. I'm sorry. There? See? You can give me whatever punishment you want back at the Pit." The blank stare made her feel uneasy. "What do you want from me? I'm really sorry, okay?"

"Whutever."

She sighed. "Don't be like that. Just yell at me some more until you get it out of your system."

"Ah'm done wit' yellin'. Don't do a lick a good ta go yellin' at ya. Jus' do whutever ya wanna do." She wasn't used to this reaction and she shifted nervously and licked at her lip. "Ah really don't care no more. Ah'll do mah job.. you do yer job."

"What are you talking about? You can't seriously be that angry." One glance at him told her everything before his expression closed down again. "You aren't angry. You're hurt. Beach, I AM sorry, I thought it was just a funny prank."

"Ha ha. It was the danged funniest thing ever. Now can we shut up and just drive back to the danged base?" He wasn't going to give an inch.

"Please don't do this. I was just mad that you kept going to sleep. I didn't think you'd get your nose so bent out of shape over a stupid prank." She gave him her best pitiful look which went unnoticed as he stared out over the dash. "Why are you so angry?"

"I TRUSTED you. Yeah.. ya talk back ta me.. and.. and ya make little snarky comments. But ya never did nuthin' cruel ta me ever.. not 'til now." His voice really seemed like he was upset and she finally grasped the level of hurt she'd inflicted.

"I didn't mean to be cruel. I just.. I thought it would be funny Beach. I used to play that sort of prank on my closest friends. We'd always do that sort of thing. I mean.. I wouldn't ever do that in the Army because it'd get me busted big time.. but.." She sighed. "I guess I sort of forgot the whole Army and rank and all that. I was just thinking it was 'me and my friend Beach'.. sorry."

He stared at her finally. "Really? Ya weren't jus' bein' mean?" He wanted to believe that. Wanted to badly.

"Yeah. It's not like you'd see me doing that sort of prank on Duke or Flint." She tried to get every bit of sincerity into her voice possible. She really hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. Now she felt horrible.

"Ya mean that?" The pitiful sound of him hoping she wasn't about to just dash his heart again nearly made her sniffle. How could she have been such an absolute heel to him? He was such a sweet guy.

"Of course I mean it. I wouldn't want to hurt you. Not ever." She nodded and gave him a little encouraging smile.

"Good. Cause if you ever try that sort of prank again.. " His voice suddenly firmed up. "I'll make ya regret ya ever were born. And of course ya wouldn't do that ta Flint nor Duke.. they'd bust ya so hard yer toes would curl. But when we get back to the Pit.. yer gonna WISH ya pulled it on 'em.. cause I'm gonna make ya the most miserable corporal that ever belonged ta the U.S. Army. Got it?"

"You bastard.. you were acting that whole time?!" She tried to feel more outrage rather than relief.

"A'course.. yer not dumb enough ta think I was all wounded by yer stupid joke.. are ya?" He smirked at her. "Yer continually forgettin' that Ah'm twice as evil as ya will ever be. But yer gonna get a gooood danged taste of jus' how evil Ah can get."

"Oh greeat." She sighed. One day she really would get one up on Beach without the fallout.

"Oh great what?" He smirked a bit wider.

"Oh great, Sergeant major." She glanced over at him. "You really are a bully sometimes."

"Sometimes? Ah mus' be goin' soft. Hafta work on that." His satisfied expression at fooling her made her sigh.. but she really was rather pleased he wasn't actually feeling hurt and upset at her. Dealing with a BeachHead with hurt feelings was a bit out of her league.

* * * *

End Chapter

You know? I don't have a lot to say other than.. Beach is evil. And on occasion.. scarily intelligent and sneaky.


	8. Chapter 8: Bigger fights

Chap 8

Wherein CoverGirl explains a little of the facts of life... and they argue. Imagine that... Beach and CoverGirl arguing! Gracious me!

Thank you for reading!

CoverGirl planted her right foot on the gas pedal and took them down the interstate for about half an hour with little more than the occasional comment on a passing tree or cow. When the billboards for upcoming spas and massage parlors began to appear, she started to snicker. "Hey.. Beach.. look.. 'Heaven's Spa' with Asian beauties to 'assist you with all your needs'." He glanced up at the billboard with the large graphic of a hot asian chick and went back to the beat-up gun magazine he'd dug out of the back of the seat. "Beach.. didja see this one? 'Lucky Number One Massage'... ooo.. a lucky massage parlor." Her snickers made him look at her questioningly then look up at the passing billboard. "What?"

"What's so danged funny about spas? And why do ya keep telling me about them? I ain't much fer beauty treatments.. although I do seem to like mud.. if'n it's in a good deep mudpit." His complete cluelessness astounded her. 

"You are NOT serious." She gazed into guileless brown eyes. "You are serious. You don't 'get it' do you?" Turning her eyes back to the road, she snickered again. "You don't really think all these massage parlors and spas are... you know.. massage parlors and spas. Right?"

His eyes went back up to another billboard with 'Super Spa - truckers welcome' on it. "Well what else would they.. hey.. why the heck would a trucker wanna stop at a danged spa?" His confused expression made her lips twitch.

"Beach.. it's cathouses. You know.. a little slap-and-tickle?" She watched him blink twice then gaze up as yet another advertisement went past with a young lithe girl in a skimpy robe. The moment of pure stunned realization was a beautiful thing as it passed across the craggy face.

"They're all whorehouses?" He sat up. "Whoa.. all of them?" His eyes fastened onto the upcoming billboard. "That one.. that's a whorehouse? They advertise.. right on the danged interstate?"

"Well settle down big boy.. don't get all excited." She shook her head. "You crack me up. Yes, all of them."

"Well.. " He looked over at her. "What about that one in town?"

"What?? No! Lucinda's?? Geez, Beach! No, that's a nail and hair place with some skin treatments." Her skin crawled a little bit. She'd gone there on a girl's night out several times. Definitely NOT a 'massage parlor' type of place.

"Oh.." He sat back and watched the signs going by. "Ain't it still illegal? You know.. prostitution?" She nodded. "Then how come they go advertising right up in front of everybody?"

"I dunno. I guess enough people think they're legitimate spas?" He hummed and watched a few more signs. Finally he turned his attention back to his magazine. After about ten minutes, she cleared her throat. "Beach? You're still thinking about all those spas.. aren't you?"

"What?! No. No.. I ain't thinking nothin' like that.. just.. uhh.. reading my magazine." He fixed his eyes on the pages in his lap, although she clearly saw his skin go red around his eyes.

"You are sooo not reading that magazine." When he started to protest, she smiled smugly at him. "If you're really reading it.. then why haven't you flipped a single page in ten minutes?"

He flipped a few pages and looked guilty. "I jus' been..reading slow. Ain't no race to get through the whole thing at once. I'm taking my time readin' it."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"Shut up, Kreiger."

They continued along the highway and Beach settled in to scribble in his notebook. He had several reports due in the next two weeks and he really should have gotten those started already. CoverGirl had settled into a spot in the increasingly heavy traffic and the truck was steady enough. Propping his file up on his knee, he glanced at it occasionally as he wrote quickly. The one thing he really wished he could get away from, all the paperwork. He liked his rank but hated the mass of forms and reports and files and requisitions, he sighed heavily.

"Penny for 'em." The light words made him glance over from under lowered brows. "Penny for your thoughts, Beach?"

"Not a good bargain. Ain't thinking about much more than these danged reports." He sighed softly and shifted his back slightly. "I oughta get myself a secretary to do all the paperwork." He cast his eyes over to her and she saw the humor in his gaze.

She narrowed her eyes at him in mock anger. "Don't look at me! I ain't no secretary!"

"I know.. I know. I'm just doing my paperwork here.. don't go gettin' me in no trouble." He fixed his eyes on the report he was writing out and she snorted and then cursed softly at the thickening traffic.

Within minutes the congestion had thickened up to cause a bumper-to-bumper traffic jam. CoverGirl cursed even louder and looked in the mirrors and then over the hood through all the cars sitting. Slamming one hand into the steering wheel, she slumped down into the seat and glared fruitlessly. "Stupid traffic.. MOVE!!!"

BeachHead finally lifted his head to peer out. "Ain't no use gettin' all riled up over it. Just a traffic jam. We'll sit until it clears out. Maybe there's a wreck up there."

"Yeah.. maybe there's a bunch of idiot drivers up there!" She resisted the urge to honk the horn and instead propped her arm on the window and huffed. "I hate traffic!" She leaned forward to yell. "I HATE TRAFFIC!!!"

Her Ranger passenger snorted loudly. "Typical. Don't be so danged impatient." He missed the furious look that crossed her face.

"What's that supposed to mean? 'Typical'? What are you trying to say, Beach?"

Missing the warning tone in her voice, and the fact that she was stuck with nothing better to do than pick a fight with him, Beach replied in a bored tone. "Typical female.. ya get all impatient the instant ya can't get yer way. Then it's always the other person's fault and never just circumstances. Right now, it could be someone got in a nasty wreck up there.. and emergency crews is tryin' to get 'em out.. but ya would rather bleat about 'idiot drivers' than just sit and wait it out." His eyes glanced up in time to let him duck the slap she sent towards his head. "HEY!!"

"Hey what!? How dare you say 'typical female'?? That's right up with 'women drivers', which I wouldn't be surprised if THAT came out of your mouth, you chauvinist pig!" He fended off a second slap and she sat back in the driver's seat and glared at him.

"I ain't said nothin' about women drivers! Heck I can't say nothin' about women drivers, not when our best tank jockey is a danged girl! Back off! Yer just impatient! And try tellin' me that you ain't impatient!" He watched her warily, lest he get smacked in the head when he wasn't looking.

"Oh right! Because I don't have a penis to make me patient! Right! I'm patient!! When it's worth waiting for, I'm real patient! If I wasn't so damned patient, I'd have stopped trying with you!" She suddenly clamped her mouth shut and looked out the driver's window. "Oh.. no."

Beach felt his eyebrows rise. "Whut?" He blinked and tried to unhear her words. "Whaddaya mean, tryin' with me?" Leaning forward he tried to look at her face. "Hello? You wanna gimme a little explanation here, Cinderella? Cause that sounded a awful lot like you think I ain't been doin' my part."

"It's not like that Beach.. honest.. I didn't mean it like that. It's just..." She sighed and looked at him. "You're worth being patient for.. you are. But sometimes a girl likes to feel like she isn't the only person wanting more in a relationship. You know?"

His face went passive and he reached to tug at the mask, lifting it slightly higher on his nose. "Yeah well.. it ain't like I ain't been doin' nuthin'." He looked at his paperwork and fiddled with the sheets a little. "Ah been tryin' to do whut Ah can."

She listened to his accent thicken and sighed at him. "Well.. you could try a bit harder. Or maybe.. just maybe.. you could actually try to approach me a little more. Usually I have to do everything."

He peered at her, calming himself. "Yer bustin' me fer nothin' again. Ain't I been coming to eat with you? Didn't we already go over all this earlier? I already had this fight with ya.. I'd rather not go over it all over again. Pick something else to fight about."

CoverGirl stared over the hood at the cars sitting there and then whirled on him. "Okay! Okay!! How about we fight about the fact that you've been the MOST obstinate oblivious idiot I've ever met! I mean.. really!? Am I just somehow not what you're looking for? You haven't even KISSED me once in this whole trip! Not ONCE! We had a room in a motel.. away from EVERYONE who would give a hoot about whether we did anything.. away from your damned annoying interfering greenshirts.. away from Mr Hypocritical Warrant Officer spying on us.. and I had to FORCE you into the bed!"

Sitting upright and glaring at her, Beach struggled to keep his temper. "Yeah.. you were doin' everything you could to get me into bed.. even when I'm tryin' to be a gentleman! I dunno why you'd expect me to go sucking face with you when we're on a MISSION! There's something 'bout bein' professional when yer on danged duty! Dang it woman! Do you realize how hard it's been fer me to NOT grab ya and.. and.." He suddenly clamped his jaw shut. "Never mind."

"Oh noo!!" She twisted in the seat. "GO on. Tell me how unprofessional I am.. and while you're at it.. call me a slut for trying to get a rise out of my boyfriend.. although you're not my boyfriend, are you? That's what you said earlier.. we haven't gone on dates.. so it must mean I'm not actually your girlfriend.. but god FORBID I talk about some other guy!" She was seething and clenched both fists in an attempt to control herself.

Beach felt like he would crack a tooth any moment. "Well if ya wanna say I ain't yer danged boyfriend.. then I guess I ain't yer boyfriend. Ya wanna go off and date other guys.. ya might as well go do it.. ain't like anyone in the whole danged place pays no attention to frat rules any danged way! If I can't make ya happy.. I don't know why you'd bother stayin' and obviously I ain't good enough fer ya. Seein' as how I wouldn't jump into bed and take advantage of ya first danged chance I had."

Now she was furious with him. "I didn't say you weren't good enough! Why would you even go there!? You're the only guy in Joe I ever even TRIED to approach! I've been beating guys off me all this time! What? You think I just decided on some whim that I'd kiss you!?" She suddenly hit him in the arm hard. "You thick-headed stupid redneck hick! Mission? We're driving a nearly empty truck back to base! It's not a MISSION! It's a road trip to nowhere to get YOU away from base so that YOU don't go all Rambo on some guy! And if you wanted to BE my boyfriend, you'd have at least kissed me at SOME point on this stupid long drive!"

He twisted to stare at her. "So now it's all mah danged fault yer out here? Ah thought it was yer volunteerin' that put ya in this danged truck with this stupid hick? In fact.. AH distinctly remember Duke tellin' me ya practically demanded to go. And a mission is a mission.. ya don't get to go choosin' when yer gonna be on duty and when yer not!" He fumed and settled back, lowering his voice. "Ain't no danged wonder yer a corporal.."

She growled and swung on him, infuriated when he got a forearm up in time to block the punch. "Don't you DARE disparage me because of my RANK! You damned uppity Ranger!" She was yanked to a stop when she tried to launch at him by her seatbelt and tried to unhook it.

BeachHead took the chance offered to knock the passenger door open and jumped out. Slamming it shut, he glared up at the cab. "Danged irrational woman!" He watched her cursing inside the cab at him. Turning his back he stomped up through the rows of cars, growling and muttering curses under his breath. Out of sight of the truck, he suddenly yanked open the door on a sedate brown Lincoln towncar and seated himself in the passenger seat, closing the door and puffing out a heavy breath.

"Uhhh..." The driver clenched his hands around the steering wheel and considered fleeing out of the car.

Beach turned to glare at the hapless driver. "Women! What the heck is a guy supposed to do?"

Swallowing nervously, the middle-aged man shrugged. "I dunno."

Beach puffed out a breath and leaned back in the seat. "See? Ain't no guy knows whadda heck they want! Ain't nothin' we do good 'nough neither! Ah mean.. Ah wanna kiss her? Ah'm bein' demandin' and a lecher. Ah don't kiss her.. and Ah don't care enough and Ah don't want her! Ain't no way to win with that kinda logic, ya know whadda mean?"

"Uhh.. I didn't understand a thing you just said. You're not from around here.. are you?" The terrified gaze flicked nervously from the angry Ranger to the stalled traffic around him. "I uhh.. are you having an argument with your girlfriend?"

Beach snorted. "Yeah. Well.. if'n ya can call her my girlfriend. She can't make her danged mind up whether we're dating or not. We ain't even supposed to date no how! So when I give in and try, all I get is a buncha grief!"

Relieved both that the strange armed man was calming down and also that he could understand him better, the civilian nodded. "Sure.. you're supposed to chase her. Ladies don't like to think that they aren't desirable. I mean.. you do think she's desirable.. right?"

Shifting himself around slightly, BeachHead took a deep breath. "Yeah. Shoot. She's.. she's the... she's everything I could ever want in a woman. She's gorgeous, she's capable, strong.. willing to throw herself into anything without pause. I mean.. if I wanted a woman.. which I don't. Well... I didn't! I didn't until she came along and stuck herself into my life. I was fine!"

Now the nervous look was back. "You mean.. you're gay? You don't like women?"

"NO!" Beach looked horrified. "Heck no!! What are ya talkin' about!? Good gawd! I ain't gay! Not that there's anything wrong with that.. fer guys what wanna.. you know.. be gay. But I ain't gay. Dang. What would you go and accuse a guy of that for?"

"Sorry! Just.. you said you didn't want a woman... and well.. why else wouldn't you want a woman? I mean.. most guys are always looking for the perfect woman.. a girlfriend.. a wife.. aren't you?" The reasonable tone masked the fright the poor guy felt at having some madman in his car asking for relationship advice.

"Well.." BeachHead thought about it a moment. "No. I didn't. I was perfectly happy bein' me. I had my duty and I did it and I was happy alone. I didn't need any woman.. didn't want any woman. Women were nothin' but trouble. You ever try to train a platoon of young rank guys when there's a woman around? Nothin' at all makes young bucks stupider than a female in the ranks." He sighed. "Then SHE had to come along.. and SHE messed up my whole danged life."

"Sounds like you don't want her around at all. maybe you'd be better off somewhere else." The sly look went unnoticed as the man noted the pained expression under the facemask. "But maybe.. you really don't want her gone."

"Noo. I don't want her to leave. I just want her to tell me what she wants." He looked over at the guy. "Why can't she just be reasonable?"

"Simple. She's a woman. She wants you to pay attention to her.. to tell her that you want her. You should show how much you want her, then she'll be flattered and satisfied."

"Yeah? How do you know? You don't know her."

"No.. but she's a woman.. isn't she?" At Beach's nod, he continued. "Has she been complaining that you don't do enough? That she has to do everything? Maybe she's even threatened to go find someone else?"

Beach's gaze narrowed and he put a hand on his sidearm. "Wait.. how did you know that?"

Hastening to reassure the suspicious Ranger, the man held up his hands. "Because I have a wife.. and all my girlfriends previous have always done the same thing! Intelligent women all want to be courted.. but don't want to simper at some guy's feet. So see? It's not that I know 'her'.. it's that I know about women.. in general. You know?"

Relaxing back a little, Beach watched him carefully. "Alright.. so how do I go about showin' the crazy woman that I want her?"

"Well.. you could spend some time with her." He lifted a hand to gesture. "Spend time with her alone if you can. That's usually better than just group things."

"I'm on a freakin' cross-country drive with her! She's drivin' me crazy and doin' nuthin' but pickin' fights with me!" Beach snorted. "Gawd.. I think I'm gettin' an ulcer from spendin' all this time with her."

"Well this type of thing doesn't count! You have to.. take her on long walks.. have dinner out somewhere nice. Maybe bring her flowers.. girls like flowers. And tell her you appreciate her and that you love her. If you don't do that, she's just gonna keep being unhappy with you."

Beach snorted. "She don't like flowers."

"Oh come on.. all girls like flowers." The guy frowned at him. "What would make you think she doesn't like flowers?"

"Cause right after she kneed me in the balls she told me she don't like flowers. The lesson stuck with me." The Ranger looked a bit grumpy over it.

"She.. she kneed you in the crotch?"

"Yeah.. great shot too.. never saw it comin'. Powerful gal, she is. She don't hesitate none when she goes to put a hurtin' on a guy, neither." BeachHead sighed with pride. "She's really a special person. I'm pretty danged proud of her and all she's done. She's come a long ways in her trainin'."

"Do you tell her that?"

"Well.. I try.. but like.. once I told her she'd done put on a buncha weight.. and she got all kinds of mad with me. Threw a danged wrench into my left ear. I hadda get two stitches! Just on accounta I was tryin' to compliment her on how much more muscle she's got. She was nothin' but a skinny little pogue when she came in. Now she's got a good twenty pounds of good solid muscle." Beach gave a sigh. "Wouldn't that be pleasin' to her? I told her she was better now.. and she got mad. I jus' don't understand women."

When he turned to look, the driver was staring at him in horror. "You told her she'd put on weight.. and you don't understand why she.. she hit you in the head with a wrench? Seriously.. dude. Give up now. Otherwise, she'd just gonna end up murdering you." He shook his head. "I never heard of anyone more hopeless than you are. Give it up. Become a monk. One of those fighting monks that kick people's butts since you'll still want to be violent, no doubt.. but a monk so you won't get murdered by some woman you've driven into a rage. Take my advice.. swear off women now. You're never ever gonna make it work."

Beach stared him with a bland expression. "Yeah. Well. Nice talkin' to ya and all. I'm gonna go now." He opened the door and got out, shaking his head. Shutting the door, he stomped his way back to the truck. "Danged clueless civies."

End chapter

Oh yes Beach.. go back to the truck now. Those two just fight all the time. They'll have to get it hashed out somehow, so might as well have them locked in a truck to get through it. Getting near the end. Thanks so much for sticking with the story, and thank you to all my reviewers who've been faithfully letting me know what they like! I appreciate it!


	9. Chapter 9: Ending fights and pie

Chap 9

Yes, Beach is still a bit clueless, and yes, he really should take the advice given him by both Aunt Beth and the civilian driver he traumatized. Well.. not the part about giving up though, that wouldn't be ANY fun at all. This is a finish of the argument, and then BeachHead finally notices a billboard worth reading.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

CoverGirl sat in the truck seat and glared at the surrounding cars. The stupid Ranger had walked off through the traffic and she had lost sight of him when he passed a large van. She told herself that she didn't care where he'd gone or if he'd show back up. Maybe the traffic would clear and she'd get to drive right past his stubborn butt on the side of the road. Maybe if he had to hitchhike all the way back to the base he'd learn not to get her so angry.

Yeah.. and maybe pigs would sprout wings and fly. She had a better chance of winged bacon than the Sergeant major ever becoming reasonable. There just wasn't any reasoning with him at the best of times. He just got so set on his way.

She gritted her teeth and kicked the innocent truck's interior with her good foot and put her bad foot up to rest it. She tried not to look at the place her boot had been scuffed up. Beach had done such a good job of fixing it up that she'd have a difficult time picking out where the damage was. She scowled at it. He'd just up and fixed it, without her asking him to. She puffed out a breath and put her foot back down.

It wasn't that he never did things for her. It wasn't that he wasn't trying.. on occasion. But it was so maddening the way he put himself forward to be with her, responded so well when she'd pushed, and then backed off almost entirely during this trip. It couldn't just be that it was a mission. He'd responded quite well during lunch in his office. It wasn't as if she wanted to make out during a battle, for god's sake! If he'd changed his mind and didn't want her, she wished he'd just up and tell her so. They'd had a long conversation and he'd asked her out, to a real honest to goodness dinner out in town. So why hadn't he responded otherwise?

She grumped to herself a little. It wasn't as if she was planning on jumping the man the instant they entered the motel room.. but sleeping on the floor? Really? Sure, she didn't expect for him to maul her as soon as they were out of sight of the Pit, but the FLOOR? She snorted. If it had been anyone else, she would have been beating them with a bat to keep their hands off of her, and with Beach, she had to threaten blackmail just to touch the man. Of course.. she didn't want the other guys to be all over her.. just BeachHead. Now her scowl deepened. Not that she wanted Beachhead all over her... she kicked the interior again. Yes she did. She wanted him, and from the responses she'd gotten the few times she got him alone, he wanted her too. So what was the stupid issue in his head?

She looked up as the surly Ranger stomped back into view, looking over his shoulder at the row of cars he had passed and cursing loudly. She leaned up and watched him in the mirrors as he passed by the passenger door. There was a slight rock to the truck as he climbed into the back then back out, compulsively checking on the unimportant cargo, as if it might have gone missing while he was off for a few minutes. Not that she could watch it perfectly well by herself, no she might have sat in the cab while looters took the scuba equipment. She snarled angrily as he came up and passed under the mirror to walk in front of the truck and stand there staring out at the cars parked in front of them as if he could force them to move by being angry. She saw the drivers directly in front of the truck get very nervous. That amused her enough to smile.

He twisted suddenly and stomped around to the passenger door and yanked it open to climb partway in. "Yer not gonna go punchin' on me if'n Ah get in, are ya?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe-so.. maybe-no. Get in and find out."

He sighed and got in warily, tugging the old door shut behind himself and settling into place. They sat and stared out of the windshield for a few moments. Finally he muttered under his breath.

"Ah'm sorry."

She blinked at him, already gearing up to shout at him. "What?"

He looked down and then away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said nothin' about yer rank.. I ain't sorry fer sayin' yer impatient though. Yer impatient." The stubborn set to his jaw told her he had bent just about as far as he was going to.

CoverGirl straightened up in her seat. "Okay." She thought it over for a few seconds. "I guess I'm impatient.. but you said it in a mean way."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm mean?! Ya went and called me stupid and a hick and jealous and all sorts of stuff."

"I'm sorry I called you names. And you ARE jealous." She glared at him.

He glared right back. "Well. Fine. It's only cause I think yer worth gettin' jealous over!"

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

"It means!! It means I want ya to be mine and only mine and I value ya over everything else so I don't want no other guys messin' with ya! I don't want no guy pawin' at ya or lookin' at ya! Just me!" He huffed out a exasperated breath and looked at her. "So.. I'm jealous. Okay!?"

"Awww." She tried to make a joke and it dried up in her throat. "Wayne. I mean that much to you?"

"Yeah." He looked at the floor and she scooted over across the seat and he jumped and banged into the door trying to get away from her. "Whoa!! Whaddaya doin??"

"What? Geez! Wayne, don't be a damned jerk! I just wanted to hug you.. and god forbid.. maybe just maybe I wanted to touch my lips to your face or something! Why do you have to be such a untouchable statue!?"

He lifted one arm up to let her get closer. "Well.. every time ya go fer me.. ya hit me! I get danged tired of catchin' yer fist in my eyeball."

CoverGirl sighed and settled next to him and put her head on his chest, feeling his breath quicken slightly. "Well.. I'm sorry I hit you. You're a big bad Ranger and you usually dodge really well.. so I'm not usually actually landing any blows on you."

"Well.. stop working so much with SnakeEyes and Scarlett and gettin' so danged fast then." He sounded amused. "I don't mean that.. I don't want you to not get faster. It might keep ya alive." She felt his arm snug down around her shoulder hesitantly and snuggled in closer. "I'm sorry that I.. uh." A heavy sigh blew out of him. "I'm sorry I haven't been demonstrating any affections to you. I didn't want you to think I was all about just that. I was tryin' to be all gentlemanly and show ya that I'm not just interested in yer body."

"That's sweet Wayne." She ignored the term 'demonstrating affections' because she knew she'd dissolve into giggles if she tried to address that phrase. "I kind of wanted a little less 'gentleman' and a little more 'wild southern boy' during this trip. Just so you know."

He snorted. "I'd rather err on the side of caution here. If'n I was to try to give you unwanted attention, you have this tendency to knee me in my parts and that just plain old hurts."

"It gets the point across though." She enjoyed the uneasy shifting around he did and felt especially evil. "But right now, I don't have any plans for attacking your gonads. Just to let you know." She tilted her head up and raised an eyebrow.

He sighed at her and pulled the mask off to bend and kiss her lips lightly. "Since yer not gonna go beatin' on me." She smiled and shifted closer to tug his head down into a long lingering kiss. On cue there was a loud honk from behind them. "Danged stupid traffic.." He gave her a slight push away. "Ya gotta drive the truck, Barbie."

She scowled at the traffic inching forward. "Blasted cars! They couldn't stay still for ten more minutes??" Scooting over, she cranked the truck up and shifted into first to edge forward bit by bit. She occupied herself with cursing softly under her breath, while BeachHead pulled out his paperwork to reorganize it and settle in filling out forms again. "You don't even care that we got interrupted AGAIN?"

"Oh... I care." He leaned back then scrunched himself around in the seat, then gave her a long-suffering look. "Trust me.. I care.. or more accurately.. parts care.. a lot."

That pleased her for some unknown reason. "As long as you're suffering.. you can suffer in silence. That's fine." He grunted in reply and she smiled.

As they began to move a bit quicker, BeachHead looked up just as the flashing lights came into view. "Well.. lookie at that. A wreck."

"Shut up."

"A nasty lookin' wreck even."

"Seriously.. shut up."

"Hope no one was hurt.. looks like a serious.. OW!!"

"I told you to shut up."

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BeachHead had put away the papers, since it was next to impossible to write with the rumbling truck and the occasional swerving by the crazy driver. Doing calligraphy on a vibrating bed would have been easier. His complaint using that analogy just made CoverGirl laugh and cram the truck between a SUV and a semi-truck, so he gave up and put it all away. Now he sat and watched the traffic and landscape with equal amounts of boredom.

"Another couple hours Ranger man.. then you'll be back at base, able to go yell at greenshirts and avoid me like the plague." CoverGirl was bored too, but her tone was teasing instead of her normal tenseness that heralded another fight.

"I don't avoid ya. I will probably yell at a buncha folks." He watched a bus as they passed it. "Don't cut that bus off."

"I'm not going to cut off a schoolbus of little kids, Beach. Calm down. And how do you know you'll have people to yell at? What if no one did anything wrong while you were gone?" She controlled the smirk.

"Yeah.. right. A buncha unsupervised greenies.. plus the Joes? Yeah, I'll just bet everyone did exactly as they was supposed to.. didn't play any pranks on no one, and didn't get into no trouble the whole time. I wouldn't expect even Ace would open a bettin' pool on that happenin'. " He suddenly sat up, his whole body tensing and CoverGirl searched the road for hostiles. "Whoa!! Didja see that?? We gotta stop there!"

She peered around. "What? Where? What happened?" Even though she wasn't sure what had alerted the Ranger, she began checking traffic and moving over to the center lane.

He pointed up ahead of them at a approaching billboard. "There!! We gotta stop!"

Looking up to read the billboard she turned to BeachHead who watched it go by. "House of Pie? Really? I mean.. the Army travels on it's stomach but that's a bit much, Beach."

"But.. but they have a hundred kinds of pie." The look on his face was ALMOST pleading. "Aren't ya hungry? Shouldn't we.. uh.. stop to eat before we get back to the Pit? Last chance to eat someplace with windows?"

She leveled a serious gaze on him. "Beach.. we're two hours from base.. and it's mid-afternoon. We had lunch. It's hours until dinner. There is no legitimate reason to stop over and eat someplace right now.. even if they do have a hundred different types of pie."

"I'll pay."

"You got it." She changed lanes and looked for the exit numbers.

"It's the exit after the next one. Thanks." He seemed so pleased with the idea that she had to just shake her head and smile about it. Her Ranger did indeed have a few weak points. Animals and food were the two major ones. No matter how gruff he'd show himself to Junkyard and Order.. the two dogs would wag excited tails and jump on him no matter what. And no one disputed his ability to out-eat just about anyone. She'd personally seen him take down a hulking Marine twice his size when he'd tried to snatch the Ranger's MRE out on a training manuevour. GungHo and Spirit had to drag him off and point out that his meal was still there. Her theory was that since he'd never gotten enough to eat as a kid, food was overly important to him. His nature never stopped her from stealing his food from under his nose at every opportunity however.

"Here.. this one!" He pointed at the exit sign and she briefly considered passing it by out of sheer cruelty but decided she didn't want to abuse her ears that way. He'd be certain to curse and curse loudly all the rest of the two hour drive. Swinging onto the off-ramp, she followed his directions to a fairly clean looking diner. BeachHead was out of the truck, around to her side and yanking open the door before she got the key out of the ignition. He held up a hand to assist her, looking more pleased than he had the entire trip.. the time he spent tying up the would-be mugger not-withstanding.

"Gal... come on.. you're takin' forever and a day gettin' outa that truck." Beach took her weight easily and made sure she was on the ground safely before he turned loose to slam the driver's door.

CoverGirl sighed at him. "What's the rush? They aren't going to run out of pie, you know."

"Never know.. they might." He grinned good naturedly, dragging his balaclava off to tuck into a pocket. His teasing tone made her roll her eyes.

"It's called 'House of Pie', I doubt they'll run out of pie. Calm down.. and we're not staying all afternoon!" She was talking to the broad back as he walked through the door. "Beach! Are you listening?"

"No!" He called over his shoulder at her.

She snorted to herself as she followed him inside. "Ranger man.. you and your stomach are going to get into trouble one day."

"Maybe tomorrow.. not today! Hey!!" Beach had reached the counter. "I wanna order some pie, please!"

The smiling waitress came over and pulled out her pad and pen. "What kind of pie you want, honey?"

CoverGirl grinned and answered for him. "He wants one of everything." The young waitress laughed easily.

Beach thought that over. "Well.. one of everything except maybe rhubarb. That ain't exactly a favorite of mine..."

The girl's eyebrows went up. "Oh... .well... oh my."

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End Chapter

Yeah.. pie. If Cobra ever baits a trap with fresh baked pie, we all know which Ranger they'll catch. Sigh. At least they've worked out the fighting!


	10. Chapter 10: Home again

Chap 10

Ahhh and we're almost to the end of it.

CoverGirl sat behind the driver's wheel and waited patiently while her Ranger laboriously climbed in the passenger side and settled into the seat. "I can't believe you ate all that. You're going to die."

He slide down in the seat a little and nodded, closing his eyes. "I am. I am gonna die. Gonna explode. Be messy."

She shook her head. "Suicide by pie. Only you, Beach... only you. We should enter you in pie-eating contests."

He held up a finger. "I'll go fer that! More pie! But the last two times I entered pie eatin' contests.. they disqualified me."

She cranked up and began working her way towards the interstate. "Why would they possibly disqualify you? That's crazy."

He tilted his chin down and belched. "Ahh... better. They disqualified me on accounta I didn't stop eatin' pie when the buzzer sounded. But.. it was danged good pie..." He twisted himself down another inch into the seat. "I really am gonna die."

"Well.. you shouldn't have eaten that much. That poor waitress.. you traumatized her." CoverGirl grinned remembering how the staff had been taking bets on how much more the Army Ranger could eat.

"Oh please!" Beach snorted loudly. "You and your danged punning was worse. Just because they showed you a apple cobbler in that square pan.. you didn't have to go saying 'look Beach, pie R squared!' like that."

She laughed. "You're just mad because I made you snort a cherry out of your nose."

"Well.. it burned. I still can't smell nothin' but cherry pie fillin' now." He tried to sound disgruntled but broke into a grin. "That was the best stop-over ever. I'm gonna stop there every time I come through here." He put a hand on his stomach and groaned. "I'm gonna die. You'll hit a bump and I'll explode."

"Poooor Beach. I'll drive carefully. I don't want to have to hose bits of Ranger out of the cab." She watched him lean his head back against the seat. "I hope you can walk by the time we get to the base. I'm not about to carry your over-stuffed bulk into the Pit."

He smiled although he didn't open his eyes. "What? You don't want me on yer back?" He suddenly looked horrified. "Oh wait.. I didn't mean it like that..."

She thought about acting offended about it, but he was in SUCH a good mood, she hated to break it. "Oh it's fine, Ranger man. I know you didn't mean it like that.. not that I might not WANT you to mean it like that..." She leered at him and watched him turn beet red. "Ha! Look at you getting all embarrassed!"

"I ain't embarrassed." He swallowed hard. "You uhh.. you'd like that.. would you...?"

Now it was her turn to look away. "Uhh.. well.." She nodded towards the side of the highway. "Look.. umm.. trees. Look at all those trees."

He dutifully peered out the windshield. "Yep. Green."

"Yeah. Lots of green trees."

The cab of the deuce was quiet for a while.

CoverGirl eased off the gas pedal and downshifted to take the off ramp. She glanced over at the sleeping Ranger a few times but he didn't move. Once she was on the smaller roadway, she reached to whack Beach in the shoulder several times until he was awake and got a hand up to fend her off. "Wakey wakey wakey! Come on! Wakey wakey!" She laughed as he scrambled to defend himself.

Looking startled and trying to blink himself into coherency, he pushed her arm away from him. "Dang it! Get offa me." He sat up and sniffed a couple times. "We almost to the base?" Looking around the truck, he checked the sparse traffic. "Everything okay?"

"Everything is fine. All in order. I just wanted to wake you up." She smiled as he cursed softly under his breath. "Aww.. come on, I just was lonely driving with you asleep. We're almost back to base.. last chance to bug you unmercifully."

"Oh when ya put it that way..." He gave her a look from under lowered eyebrows. ".. I'm goin' back to sleep.." He pretended to slouch down in the seat and got smacked a few more times. Her whacks were a lot more playful and a lot less painful though, so he didn't protest too much. "Alright alright! Gawd you're an abusive girlfriend."

She stopped and stared at him for a second. "Wayne.. you just called me your girlfriend." He looked away, hoping he wasn't about to get yelled at for presuming. "You're so sweet." He puffed out a relieved breath. "I'm glad I volunteered for this trip." She grinned widely. "It's been fun."

"Yeah.. you're mental, Kreiger. You know that, right?" He settled in and stretched a bit. "It ain't been a bad trip.. you're good company." She beamed happily and he added. "When you ain't attractin' muggers, playing pranks on me, stealin' my food or picking fights with me on accounta you're bored."

She mock scowled at him. "Well.. I think I'll take it as a compliment.. despite your surly nature and little sniping quips. At least I got to leer at my boyfriend in bed." He blushed on cue and she preened at her success. "Even if you do drive like a grandma."

"I drive just fine. Ain't no one but you complained about my drivin' any." He deliberately didn't look at her.

She waited and finally started to open her mouth with, "What about.."

He interrupted. "That DON'T count! I told Duke to hold on! Ain't my danged fault that he can't stay in a sand rail when it turns up on two wheels!" He grumped to himself. "Sides.. he only broke his danged wrist fallin' out! That don't even count!"

She raised an eyebrow at him but let it go. She was feeling overly generous towards him. "Anyway.." She flipped a blinker light on and turned to start down the long entrance road, passing the airfield and the hangers. "Almost back to the Pit."

He nodded and bent to get the box of gear put back together. "Yeah." He glanced at his watch. "We're back early.. be a couple hours until dinner even. I should be able to get all the paperwork turned in, get the truck unloaded and the stuff inventoried." Ducking his head slightly, he glanced over at her. "You'll eat dinner with me, right?"

CoverGirl nodded, giving him a smile. "Of course.. but are you sure you're going to be able to eat?"

"I can always eat." He lifted upwards to glare down at the greenshirt on gate guard duty when she pulled up. "DID YOU JUST WAVE THIS TRUCK THROUGH WITHOUT CHECKIN' IT!" The guard jumped and looked up at him. "You do NOT pass a vehicle through this danged gate without checkin' it!"

"But but..." The greenie stuttered a moment. "But it's Corporal CoverGirl driving and.. I thought.."

BeachHead glowered at him darkly. "You THOUGHT what? You thought it was fine to disregard protocol on accounta Barbiedoll here is drivin'?"

Looking up at the ex-model and making the poor decision to try for masculine points, the greenie gave just a hint of a smirk. "Well.. yes Sergeant major."

CoverGirl leaned back in the driver's seat and plugged her right ear with a finger as Beach lunged to the window over her lap. "Easy Beach.."

He ignored her. "DON'T YA MAKE ME GET OUTA THIS DANGED TRUCK AND FIX YER DANGED PRIORITIES BOY! I swear ta Gawd I WILL break ya myself if'n ya wanna make me!"

The greenie shook his head. "No Sergeant major. Checking the vehicle now." He ran the most thorough check possible and then came back around to her door. "You're clear." A quick wave and the gate rolled open.

She nodded to him. "Thank you." Beach leaned over and she shoved him back on his side. "Beach says thank you too." There was a low growl which she ignored. Taking the rumbling truck into the base and threading it through to the motorpool, she pulled it into a deserted garage section and shut the engine down. "Well.. we're back." She looked at the Ranger who made no move to open his door.

He glanced over at her. "Yeah." Suddenly he tugged off his mask and slid across the seat closer to her, reaching to take her face carefully in hand. Even though he moved slow enough for her to pull away, it was still one of the most overt moves he'd ever put on her and for a few seconds, CoverGirl was too surprised to respond. Then her hands came up to twist around behind his head, pulling him in and kissing him deeply.

They broke the kiss to breathe and he sighed. "Yeah.. time to go... uh.. get to unloadin' the truck..."

She smiled as he made no move to leave the cab. "Yeah.. we should get right on that.." Another kiss followed her words, and she scooted closer to the very warm, very male body next to hers. "In just one minute... " Her slender form pressed up against him and he reached to tug her half into his lap.

His voice was soft.. "Maybe... maybe a few minutes... ain't much to unload no how.." His hands drifted down to her back, pulling her in so he could trail his lips along her jaw to her ear and kiss the tender skin under it. Her eyes fluttered slightly and she sighed softly.

"Sergeant major?" The eager young voice came from entirely too nearby and CoverGirl cursed inventively in strangled mutters.

Beach tilted his forehead into hers and sighed heavily. "Yeah.. we're back to the Pit." He kissed her elegant cheekbone very gently. His hands stopped roaming and came to a rest on her shoulders.

She slumped just a little bit. "Yeah.. I noticed. Just how attached are you to that greenshirt? If say.. he just disappeared.. or.. well.. if there were only scattered parts of him found?"

He chuckled softly at her and stole one last quick kiss. "That'd be a lotta paperwork, Barbiedoll. Plus Hawk gets mad as a wet hen if Joes kill any of their teammates. Just gets right under his skin. No one wants to make Hawk mad. It's almost a cardinal rule, you could say."

"Sergeant major?" Williams sounded closer to the truck although it was parked up on the higher section and they were mostly hidden from view. He certainly didn't sound like someone about to give up and leave the motorpool though.

Beach looked at the ceiling of the truck briefly then dragged his balaclava back onto his head. "Yes Williams!"

The eager voice sounded so happy, Beach just knew he'd feel a slight amount of guilt in about five minutes when he got done kicking him. "You're back, Sergeant major!"

"Yessss... Williams. Very freakin' observant." Beach kicked his door open and gave CoverGirl one last apologetic glance. She shrugged at him and smiled. He dropped out onto his feet on the motorpool floor. "Williams! Since you're so danged eager to come bother me.. you can do the danged maintenance on this deuce. The driver's door sticks.. and it needs a new tire on the right front.. and then you can...."

CoverGirl listened to the deep accent giving Private Williams a string of duties to perform, hearing him branch into ordering the truck unloaded and the proper forms to be located and brought in to him as other greenshirts and motorpool attendants appeared as well. Taking a deep breath, she twisted in the driver's seat to boot the door open.

"Hey! Sergeant Hardass! You gonna let me fall out on my head or you gonna come give me a hand down out of this stupid deuce? I gotta pee!"

End Story

Yes, that's the end of it. No more! I hope it was as fun for you to ride along as it was for me to write it! As always, thank YOU for reading and feel free to review or PM me with comments or questions!


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